Things Aren't As They Seem
by SourwolfStilinski
Summary: Stiles is suffering from the after effects of the nogitsune and things aren't going too well. He feels as if he is losing his mind all over again. Maybe things would have been better if the Pack would have just killed him. WARNING: ANGST, major/minor character death(s), language, smut in later chapters. THAT MEANS BOYXBOY Don't like, don't read. Rated MA. Future Sterek
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be my first multi chapter fic. This is also my first Teen Wolf fic, but I hope I do well because Teen Wolf is like the best thing ever.**

**Sorry if you all hate me by the end of this. There will be some major character deaths and a lot of angsty stuff ahead, so be prepared.**

**Anyway, here you go~**

Darkness.

Pure darkness.

Stiles couldn't help the sharp chuckle that passed his lips at the irony of it all, but that is what his life had been up till this point. A huge joke and he was the punchline. Isn't it fun how at one moment you are a completely normal teenager, with normal teenager problems, such as school, grades, friends, actually managing to get a girlfriend, even a date to Homecoming, but life has a way of ruining all of that. He used to be normal, that is until he made a horrid mistake.

They were only supposed to be out looking for a body, him and his best friend, but they were separated in the woods by his father. His best friend was bit by a werewolf and their lives began spiraling out of control. Until now.

Now. Well now his best friend, Scott, had finally learned to master his once out of control abilities and managed to become a True Alpha. But he would never hurts someone. On purpose that is. Nor try to bite someone against their will. For an Alpha, that is truly admirable.

He rolled his eyes as sarcasm permeated through the room, almost palpable in the air. A small smirk spread across his face as the room around him contorted, the darkness being replaced by a hazy light. The thought _Don't go towards the light_ sounded in his head before he was pulled fully into consciousness.

His eyes blinked in rapid concession, trying to rid them of bleariness. His back ached like he had slept too long and his head pounded like a jackhammer. Though his mind kept drifting back to the dark room, which was now only a distant memory as light flood through his brain. A beeping resounded from beside him, making him turn his head to the source. He found himself hooked up to several different machines, each making their own separate sound, filling the room with an off beat orchestra.

He sighed heavily in his chest and let his eyes slip closed once more. He hated hospitals. Trying his best to block out the now annoying beeping from next to him. Soon, it grew to get the best of him, making his eyes snap open in frustration.

"Can somebody _please _make these things shut up?!" He shouted out the door, hoping desperately that someone had heard him and was coming to his aid.

"I don't think they can do that." came a monotone voice from beside him, a voice he knew quite well. Upon turning, his jaw almost dropped at the sight. Derek Hale sat in a dingy hospital chair, arms crossed over his chest, with his trademark scowl in place.

He sat gaping at the man like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing like a moron. When he said nothing, the man continued.

"What do you remember?" His deep timbre resonated through the room. "Before you woke up." He clarified, making sure the human understood him.

This snapped Stiles from his act, making his face furrow in confusion. He remembered bits and pieces, but nothing really solid to go on. He wracked his brain trying to get something, anything, when he heard a voice.

_'Stiles...'_ It was also a voice he knew well, but just couldn't place. He jerked his head from side to side, trying to find the mystery person, but no such luck. He was alone in his room, apart from Derek being there, which still freaked him out a little bit.

"Stiles!" Derek snapped at him, making the boy turn his head in his direction once more, the mysterious voice all but forgotten.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"I asked if you remembered anything. Listen when I talk dammit." He growled out, practically oozing anger from his pores.

"Um...No. I don't remember anything really." Even to him his voice sounded confused and slightly lost.

Derek dropped his head into his hand, scratching down his face with blunt, human nails before facing him again. "I was afraid of that. After talking to Kira's mother, I knew there was a possibility that you wouldn't know what had happened."

"What are you talking about dude?" Exasperation, with a hint of desperation, making itself known.

The elder glared, trying to entice fear, but only made Stiles roll his eyes. "You're glare lost it's effect after the first few dozen times."

Derek sighed in frustration. "Don't call me dude."

"Whatever. Just tell me what happened."

A look of panic passed over the werewolf's face before he quickly covered it. "Stiles." he said, voice straining in tension.

The smirk fell from the others face as fear took over. "You're freaking me out." He didn't get the chance to finish before Derek was cutting him off.

"Stiles. You were possessed. By a nogitsune." The words came out quickly, as if he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"Yeah." He shrugged as if it meant nothing to him.

"You already knew?" Anger flashed in the werewolf's eyes, making them bleed red, before shifting back to hazel.

"Well I remember that part of it. Kind of hard not to when it was pretty obvious. I would never try to kill you guys. You're my Pack." A small smile pulled on his lips, though never managed to reach his eyes.

"Stiles. What exactly do you remember?" A questioning look passed over his face, masking all forms of panic and anger.

"Well...I remember what happened at the Nemeton. I don't think I could ever really forget though. Then I was having all these...dreams after, but they didn't feel like dreams. Or maybe they did. I wouldn't know. I could barely even distinguish between a dream and reality and most of the time I was in a daze anyway. After that, I remember that Barrow tried to kill people, but was really targeting Kira and I was the one who told Barrow to kill her. Then I was at this party at your place, sorry about that by the way." He smiled sheepishly before continuing. "Then nothing for awhile. After that, I remember going to Eichen House and how Oliver tried to kill Malia and I. Then, there's nothing. And I woke up to a pure black room and I was talking to myself, but I guess it was a dream. Now I'm here. Talking to you, which I still don't really get."

The man across from him sighed. "That means you only remember when you were in control."

"What do you mean? Only when I was in control?" His eyes widened in sudden realization. "Derek." His voice cracked unpleasantly. "What did I do?" He could feel tears brimming in his eyes as he thought of all the possibilities. He could have hurt someone. Or worse. His mouth opened in horror as Derek said nothing. "Derek?" His voice came out in a whisper.

The man could no longer meet his eyes and swiftly looked away, saying nothing.

"Derek. Please." Stiles shifted on the bed, trying to untangle his legs, rip the IVs out and try not to have a panic attack all at the same time. Though he didn't get far until he found himself pinned under the werewolf, hands forced down into the bed and red eyes staring down at him.

"Don't. Move." He growled out, fangs peeking out over full lips.

Stiles couldn't help but shift uncomfortably, though his head moved in a slight jerk motion, finding a lump rise in the back of his throat. He was sure if Derek wasn't a werewolf then he wouldn't have caught the motion.

Once he was sure the teen wouldn't try to remove himself from the bed, he shifted off, eyes bleeding back to hazel.

"Derek." He said in a quiet voice, clearing his voice to get more volume. "Tell me. Tell me what happened." He took a deep breath, but it got stuck in his throat, making his lungs ache softly. "Was it...Is it my dad?" When Derek still said nothing, the panic set in.

His heart beat against his chest, threatening to burst out, the monitor beside him going crazy. His breaths became labored as tears gathered in his eyes. Already he could feel the burn of his lungs from lack of oxygen and tried desperately to fill them, but the more he tried, the more he failed. Blood rushed to his head, making him feel light headed. His hands grabbed the sides of his head in agony, a cry escaping from his mouth. His vision blurred with fresh tears as the others had already rolled down his chin. Visions of his mother passed behind his eyes only making him sob louder, pleading. Pleading with anyone who could hear. He felt hands gripping his forearms, his waist, his back, but the hot brand against his skin did nothing to dull the ache in his heart. Another vile sob wracked through him, echoing through the room. A picture of his father flashed behind his lids, making his heart pound louder.

His sobs slowly quieted to cry until he was just shuddering, silent tears falling down his face and soaking into a pale blue shirt, dying it navy. He looked up in wonder and found himself sitting in the brooding werewolf's lap, hands rubbing gently against his back in circular motions. The elder was humming softly under his breath, eyes screwed tightly shut. Stiles whimpered softly, bringing the werewolf's attention to focus.

"Stiles? Are you okay?" He asked, concern flooding through the tension in his shoulders and neck.

A mumble replaced the answer, so he tried again. "Stiles. It wasn't your father."

The teen's eyes grew wide, brightening behind the tears that still ran freely down his face. "He's..." His voice broke horribly so he cleared his throat. "He's alive."

A sad smile pulled onto Derek's usually stoic face, but didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes. You're father is fine. A few scratches and bruises, but he's fine."

Relief flooded through the teen, making him feel oddly weightless. A smile tugged on his lips as he buried his face into the others neck. "I'm so...I don't even know how I am feeling right now. There are no words to describe it. I'd...I'd be lost without my dad. I don't know what I would do if I had hurt him. I don't what I'd do without him. I'm just glad everyone's oka-" His voice suddenly cut off as another realization hit him. His father was alive, but...

"What about everyone else?" He asked, already expecting the answer that was sure to come out of the werewolf's mouth.

Instead of responding, he pulled the teen closed to him, burying his face in his messy hair. He could already feel Stiles shivering against him in fear, panic, anguish. Already knowing the human was going to have another panic attack, though it never happened. Stiles looked up at him with doe eyes brimming with fresh tears and he couldn't hold back.

He deserved to know.

"Scott...Scott is dead."

**A/N: WOW I feel like a horrible person right now. I'm sorry. D:**

**I didn't want to kill you Scott. But it just happened. **

**Scott is beautiful and amazing and he shall live on in the afterlife as a unicorn. Because who wouldn't want that.**

**I'm sorry if this kinda sucked :/ Like I said, never written a multi chapter fic before so don't be too hard on me.**

**Yeah. So...That's about it.**

**If you liked it, please leave a review. It would be greatly appreciated.**

**Goodbye my lovelies. Hope you stick around. 3**


	2. Chapter 2

He could feel the color drain out of his face. He could feel the tears streaming down his face. Feel his throat close up. His shoulders and back stiffen as if waiting for the final blow. The burn in his lungs from lack of air. The ache that throbbed with every beat of his heart. The ringing in his ears. The hot brand against his back. He was painfully aware of everything and at the same time, nothing at all.

He was too far gone to realize the brand against his skin had pulled back, that there was no heat existing anywhere near him. Frantic hands pushed at him, forcing him to lay back down, shouting something at him, at the others in the room, but he didn't listen. Couldn't have even if he wanted to. He felt a cold chill run through his veins as another needle pierced his skin, followed by a warm numbness he welcomed with everything left of his being.

His eyes fluttered open, blinding himself momentarily, though the glare quickly vanished. He surveyed his surroundings only to find a solitary nurse and no Derek. Stiles didn't want to think about why a twinge of disappointment flooded through him. Trying to distract himself, he watched the unknown nurse work. She looked like a newbie. She had to keep looking over at a clipboard, nodding to herself as if she knew what she was doing and went back to taking care of him. Once she was finished, she smiled down at him and her lips started moving.

"-be taking care of you for the time being." Her eyes twinkled in the light like this was the best thing she had ever done in her life. Like he was the best patient in the world and she just couldn't keep the smile off her face. It pissed him off to no end, but tried not to show it.

"I'm sorry. What?" His cheeks tinted in embarrassment.

She laughed, the sound ringing out like Christmas bells. "I'm Ms. Brady. I'm taking over for Ms. McCall. She had to take some time away. So I'll be taking care of you." He voice sounded almost like a kitten meowing in the dead of night, nice to listen to until it got annoying.

Stiles felt a flood of anguish run through his body at the mention of Ms. McCall. Knowing he was the cause of her absence. Tears blurred his eyes for a moment before he wiped them away. His nurse's smile faltered slightly, knowing she had made a mistake.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stilinski. The sedative we gave you should be working soon enough." She laughed an awkward kind of laugh, scratching at the back of her neck.

He cleared his throat, wincing in pain as the action scratched against his sore throat. "Just call me Stiles." He could already feel his muscles growing tired and weak, his eyelids drooping under some unknown force, something he hadn't noticed until now. His vision started blurring in and out of focus until it finally just faded to black. The last thing he heard was a _Goodnight Stiles_ before finally letting himself succumb to sleep.

* * *

He was standing in a solid white room, devoid of any color. Devoid of anything really. But a mirror that was nailed to the wall. Upon approaching it, the room seemed to shift to a different scene all together. For a few moments all he could see was black, but it soon changed into a forest. Something you would see out a Lord Of The Rings movie or Twilight maybe. Stiles whipped around in all directions, but all he could see was endless trees, dense fog and glowing red eyes.

He reminded himself to stay calm, that they can smell his fear, but it was easier said than done. He could only stand there, rooted in place, as the eyes began to approach him. They circled him like prey. The teen heard a brisk growl from behind, setting him off running, leaving behind a heart breaking howl in his wake.

After running ceaselessly through the overgrown forest, his muscles finally gave out, his body falling forward to the ground. His lungs burned from the exertion and his muscles howled in pain. Though he heard no sound of pursuit, hadn't for quite awhile, he still rolled himself up to his feet to find some kind of hiding place.

After looking and looking and finding nothing, he finally gave up, falling back to sit on a moss covered log. Not as comfortable as the ground had been, but it fit his purposes for the time being. Running his fingers idly through the neon green hair-like moss, he finally let his eyes close, exhaustion winning out over self-preservation. He let his thoughts run wild. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt peaceful. Sure he was still in a dangerous place, filled with dangerous creatures who could, as Derek put it, rip his throat out with their teeth. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of the elder man, but instead of dwelling on the reason for that, he let himself fall into a dreamless sleep.

He was awoke to a twig snapping beside him, causing his eyes to go wide in panic. He jolted up from his resting place, only to find the forest had changed while he was out. The trees were now like tall shadowy figures, branches resembling claws. The moss was completely gone, leaving him laying on a dirt covered, bug infested log. The fog had grown thicker, blocking everything in a 2 foot radius. All but the glowing eyes that stood so close to his face that he could taste the wolf's breath on his tongue. He opened his mouth to scream, but was cut off by a clawed hand gripping his throat.

"_Stiles."_ It mocked, throwing him to the ground only to pick him back up the neck, cutting off air supply and the sarcastic comment that was coming forth.

"_Stiles."_ He said in a sing song voice again. _"What can be broken without being touched Stiles?"_

The teen shivered in his place as he felt a wave of deja vu hit him full force.

"_What can be broken without being touched Stiles?"_ The unknown man's voice grew in anger.

When he still didn't get a response, he threw him to the ground, kicking him in the stomach with all his strength. The boy coughed into the dirt, dust billowing around his head, making his eyes water and his nose run.

"_What can be broken without being touched?!"_ He yelled, breaking through the stillness of the night.

Stiles whimpered in agony, fear, panic, curling in around himself as if it would protect him.

"_WHAT CAN BE BROKEN WITHOUT BEING TOUCHED STILES?!"_ He screeched, pulling the teen up by his throat once more.

He found himself with his back against the rough bark of the tree, the uneven surface cutting into his flesh, and the man in front of him, only an inch separating their faces. Stiles refused to look up, knowing the moment he did would be the end of his life. "A promise." He didn't realize he had said the words until it was already out.

The werewolf laughed mockingly, sending chills down the boy's back. "_Yes Stiles. A promise. And what did you break?"_ He didn't give him time to answer before pushing against his windpipe. _"A promise."_

The lanky teen finally turned to look into the glowing eyes of the Alpha slowly strangling him. What air was in his lungs left him the moment he was faced with dark curly brown hair, Alpha eyes, and everything that was just...Scott. Tears welled up in his eyes at seeing his best friend. Who was slowly trying to kill him.

As if reading his mind, Scott spoke. "_You killed me Stiles. Not the other way around. You killed me because you wanted to."_ He laughed bitterly before straightening his face out into a glare. "_You always said we would be friends forever Stiles. Forever apparently isn't as long as I thought it was because I sure as Hell didn't think it would end so soon. But you were lying when you said that, weren't you? Always looking for acceptance by those who would _never_ like you. Lydia, Derek, Isaac, even Jackson at some point. You only wanted them to accept you. To love you. Because no one is good enough for Stiles Stilinski. Nothing is good enough for you."_ Tears welled up in red eyes._ "I trusted you Stiles. With my life. But it seems as if you wanted more than that. I tried being a good friend for you. I tried being there for you whenever I could. I tried to protect you when everyone else wanted you dead. And how do you repay me? By killing me. I can't ever see my mom again Stiles. She's going to be all alone without me. I'm never going to see Allison or Isaac or Cora or even Derek. I never had the chance because you took that away from me. You took that away. You killed me."_

The grip fell slack, Stiles' body falling slack against the broken branches and twigs on the ground. Tears poured from his eyes, cleaning one streak of dirty skin. His fingers found purchase in the earth, ripping at it.

"_You killed me_." He came face to face with the nogitsune before he was alone again, in a white room, devoid of everything.

Time seemed to slow to a snail speed, seconds passed like minutes, minutes like hours. "I killed him." Stiles finally found enough will to say. "I killed my best friend when all he wanted to do was protect me." Pain erupted from his chest, right at his heart, like he had been stabbed straight through, though when his hand felt his damp shirt, it came back with water instead of blood. A sob wracked through his body, causing tremors to course down his spine.

After what had felt like forever, he finally found enough strength to move from his spot and look in the mirror one more time. He didn't know why, nor did he care to investigate further. Once in front of it, he realized what a wreck he looked like. His eyes were bloodshot, tear streaks obvious on his dirty cheeks. Mud was caked in his hair and on his clothes, the cloth ripped slightly. Around his neck was a steadily forming bruise with five small pin pricks of blood. He sighed.

"_You killed me_." A voice said from somewhere in the room, but when he looked up all he could see was himself. And he was covered in blood.

* * *

Stiles awoke with a scream. His skin was soaked in sweat instead of blood, his hair matted to his forehead. His breathing was erratic and his heartbeat louder than he thought possible. His eyes were blown wide with fear and panic, his cheeks wet with tears.

Hot brands pressed into his shoulders and back, lifting him from his sweat soaked sheets and setting him on jean clad legs. Hot breath exploded on his neck causing a shiver to run down his spine. He focused on the soft humming coming from the elder's throat, trying to match his breathing with the steady ones of the other. The werewolf's heartbeat slowly calmed the fear running through the teen's veins until he was breathing on his own.

"D'rk?" He mumbled into the others shirt, refusing to move his face out of the safety of the werewolf.

"I'm here Stiles." He mumbled into the teen's hair., rubbing small circles into his back.

"That's what I don't get."

He could feel the man's face morph into a frown. "Do you want me to leave?" He sounded kind of hurt by the prospect.

"NO!" He practically shouted, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "I just...I just meant that...Why do you want to stay?" He looked up at him pleadingly, tears shining in his eyes.

Derek's face immediately softened, hand moving to brush away the wetness at Stiles' cheek. "Well, you're Pack." He said in a soft voice, shrugging.

He felt despair blossom in his chest. "Even after...Even after I killed Scott." His voice faltered, breaking on his best friend's name. "Even after I tried to kill all of you. Isaac. Allison. My dad. You. How can you possibly forgive that?"

Derek's face contorted in slight pain, but he quickly smoothed it out. "_You_ didn't kill him. _You_ didn't try to kill anyone. It wasn't you, it was the _nogitsune_." He sneered out the name, eyes flashing red momentarily.

Even to his human ears, Stiles heard his heart beat spike at the sight, but quickly settled it once more. He looked down, burying his face within the Alpha's shirt. "It was me. It was all my fault. If I hadn't...If I hadn't been so weak-" He was cut off by a low rumbling in Derek's chest, a deep resounding growl. He shivered.

"Don't _ever_ think that._ Ever_. You did nothing. This is in no way your fault. No one blames you for any of it. They know. They know it wasn't you."

He whimpered softly, clutching the older man closer. "Scott does." He whispered out.

"Why do you say that?" The Alpha's voice was strained, tense.

"In my dream. He was saying these things to me, of how I was a shitty friend to him, of how I betrayed him and took his life when he trusted me with everything he had. That he never got the chance to see his mom again, to see Allison and Isaac and Cora and you. And he was right." He cleared his throat, attempting to dislodge the lump that had formed there.

"He isn't right because that wasn't him. It wasn't him telling you those things. It was you. You blame yourself."

He laughed bitterly. "Of course I am. Because I killed him. And how can you be so sure it wasn't him?"

"Because Scott loved you. He loved you like a brother, like Pack. Even if you had done it, he would have been glad for it to have been you. He never once blamed you for any of the things that had happened. Never once. He always told everyone that there was a way to save you. That he would save you. While everyone else was willing to take the final blow, he would stand in the way. He was protecting you. Because he knew. He knew it wasn't you. And I know that if he had the chance he would gladly do it again."

The teen peeked out from the cloth clenched between his fingers, looking at the other with doe eyes. "I think that is the most I've ever heard you say." That pulled a small chuckle from the werewolf. "Thanks though. Even if you were one of the ones that was ready to take that final blow."

"I wasn-"

He cut him off with a knowing smirk, before snuggling back into his chest like a child. "Since the first day you met me, you've wanted me gone. Dead. You hate me"

It was silent for a while before the Alpha spoke up. "You're wrong." was all he said.

"What do you mean?"

Derek huffed out a sigh before shifting the boy into a more comfortable position earning a whine in complaint. "I never hated you." He held a hand over the boy's mouth, knowing he was going to interrupt. "Yes. I thought you were annoying as Hell. I still do, but I never hated you. I've never wanted you dead either." His hand moved down to lay over Stiles' heart. "The reason I pushed you away was because I saw the danger, the risk of letting you too close. And I don't mean physical danger. You were the one who could see through Lydia's perfectly constructed mask. You saw right through it without even trying. I feared that you would do the same to me. I built that mask up for years, even when Laura was still alive. I finally made it perfect and I knew that you would be able to see right through it. I hated having you around for fear that you would get close, that you would break through my mask and see the truth. I pushed everyone away for the same reason, but with you it was different. With everyone else, they would eventually leave me alone if I pushed hard enough, but with you, no matter how hard I pushed, how much I threatened you, you came back fighting." He sighed. "I actually admire you a lot. You're smart, way smarter than I thought you would be and you've helped this pack more than I have. You've got a big heart, even for those who are cruel to you. You accept everyone, flaws and all. You made the Pack what it is today, all I did was bite them and keep them alive, but you, you kept them together. You were their super glue. And God I hated you for it. That was the only time I felt any kind of animosity towards you. _I_ was the Alpha. _I_ was supposed to be the strong hold, the pillar of strength. When Erica and Boyd died, I lost it. I stopped trying for a while. I couldn't stand that a simple, scrawny little human had forced his way into _my_ Pack." He took in a shuddering breath. "But you brought me back. You always bring me back from drowning, from _burning_. You keep me there even when I don't want to be there. And when we found about the nogitsune, I thought I was going to kill something. I thought to myself _How dare that demon take over Stiles? Our Stiles. My Stiles. _But even then you made me come back. You kept me here even when everything was falling apart. That's why I know Scott doesn't blame you for anything. That's how I know no one blames you for anything. Because your_ Stiles_. Not the nogitsune. Your _Stiles_. The super glue that kept this pack together for a lot longer than I could have."

Tears were steadily streaming from the boy's eyes now, but a smile played on his lips and his eyes sparked with life. He hugged himself tighter into Derek's chest, who let go of a deep breath. Stiles smiled slightly, just a small upturn of his lips, but it was enough for Derek. Enough for now. Hands returned to their place on his back, drawing small shapes and letters through the fabric of his shirt.

"Thank you." He whispered just over the man's heart.

"No need to thank me. It's all true." He whispered back.

Stiles smirked as he pulled away from the man giving him refuge. "If I didn't know better, I would think that Mr Big Bad Wolf had a crush on Little Red Riding Hood."

Derek's eyes bulged for a second before he shrugged. "Good thing you know better then."

The teen frowned slightly. "Do you?"

"Do I what? Have a crush on you?"

"No. Do you know better?"

The Alpha fidgeted in his place slightly, red tinting the tips of his ears. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The smirk returned. "Sure you don't Sourwolf." He laughed when the wolf huffed out a complaint at the name, but he knew not to argue. "Do you though? Have a crush? Not on me of course. But on someone. Because you deserve to be happy."

Derek turned a bright red, the flush spreading across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears down his neck and past the collar of his Henley. He cleared his throat once, twice, thrice before speaking. "Yes. Actually I do."

Excitement flashed in the teen's eyes. "Who?!"

"Shut up Stiles." The wolf grumbled.

"You can't expect me to just leave this alone. Now I have to know."

Derek moved to haul the teen back on the bed, dropping him unceremoniously on the sheets. The moment he stepped away, he felt a shaking hand grab his wrist.

"Please don't leave. I won't bring it up again. Just...Please." The teen sat shaking on the bed, his free hand grabbing the sheets in a tight fist, his eyes cast down.

"Alright. I'll stay here then." When the teen didn't drop his arm nor moved he quirked an eyebrow, though ended up sighing. "Move over."

A red hot flush crossed over Stiles' face adorably, though he did as he was asked. The wolf kicked off his shoes and crawled under the sheets next to the shivering boy, pulling him close to his side. "Thank you." came the muttered reply.

"Just go to sleep Stiles." He growled out, hiding the smile from his voice that was definitely on his face.

"Good night Sourwolf." The teen snuggled closed, wrapping his arms around Derek's muscled torso, snuggling his face into the man's chest. He was out like a light.

The wolf shifted slightly so the boy was laying more on top of him than on the bed. Kissing the crown of the teen's head, he muttered a small "Good night Stiles" before settling in for the night.

* * *

**A/N: That was a lot longer than I thought is was going to be. ~Shrugs~ Anyway, I liked the way this turned out though.**

**I also think that is the most I have heard from Derek throughout every episode in every season so go me!**

**There will be more angst to come, so no need to worry my lovelies. ~Smirks evilly~ I'm thinking of the next chapter being the Sheriff's chapter where Stiles finally goes home. Hmmmmmm. Who knows. Maybe.**

**Oh. Also I plan on updating every day if I have the time, but there will be a new update every week, so those who are following this story should be happy :D**

**Umm...I think that's it.**

**Review below. It makes writing a lot easier knowing that people like the story. So yeah.**

**Thanks for reading guys~**

**I love you all 3**


	3. Chapter 3

The teen awoke to a rustling at his bedside, though he couldn't will himself to move, simply burying his face back into his pillow. Though as his mind became more alert, he realized his pillow was _really_ hot and hard. Peeking out from under his lashes, he was met with the serene face of the brooding werewolf. A small smile pulled to his lips as he watched the man sleep. The Alpha looked...peaceful. All tension practically invisible in his sleep. Stiles decided he liked this side of Derek. When he wasn't all creepy and threatening. He dared to say the wolf looked cute when asleep, not that he would ever admit that to _anyone_.

The teen snuggled back into his safe haven, gripping the man closer. Derek unconsciously pulled him tighter, burying his face in the boy's hair. A light blush flooded Stiles' cheeks, forcing him to look away from the werewolf. He idly played at the others shirt, pulling at the frayed edges as his mind wandered. A shiver ran down his spine as his dream came to mind, forcing a wave of guilt to wash through him, tears pricking in his eyes, immediately being soaked into the fabric beneath him.

As if sensing his grief, Derek pulled him unbelievably closer, nuzzling the top of his head with his face. The teen flushed, memories of last night now haunting his ADHD riddled mind. Derek's words replayed in his mind, making tears form once more. The wolf may have meant them at the time, but they weren't true. No matter how much he wanted them to be. He buried his face further into the chest beneath him, trying to hide from himself, from Derek, from everyone. Without realizing, he fell into a dreamless slumber once more.

The second time the teen awoke was from a rather loud clearing of a throat. He felt the body under him tense and a shudder ran through his bones. Risking a glance up, his eyes widened slightly and his cheeks burned with incredible heat as he saw his father standing in the doorway, looking astonished, embarrassed and a little angry, though his relief was as plain as day. John huffed out a sigh, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"Stiles. I'm glad you're awake. Derek..." He cleared his throat again. "Thank you for watching over my son."

"Dad..." His voice cracked horribly. "I...I'm sorry." The teen looked down, distracting himself once again with the frayed edges of Derek's shirt.

John's eyes widened, as did the werewolf's, both looking incredulously at the teen. "Stiles, you have nothing to apologize for." The man moved from his frozen position and straight to his son's side, bringing a hand up to rest on the teen's side.

"I...I just..." He muttered out. "I..." For the first time since he could ever remember he was struggling for words. He couldn't think of anything to say to his father. He didn't know how he could possibly apologize for the horrors he had put his dad through. Put everyone though. Put Scott through.

John cleared his throat, breaking through the silence. "Derek. Could you...?" He said, motioning to the door. His only response was a tight nod before starting to untangle himself from the lanky arms that held him in place.

Pure fear set in the moment he was alone on the bed. Tears welled in his eyes, breathing catching in his throat. His muscles worked without him, darting out to grab the hem of the man's shirt. "Please..." He sobbed out, his grip tightening.

Both men stared down at him, eyes wide.

"Please don't go." He whispered, eyes downcast.

The man knelt down to his eye level, cupping his cheek in a gentle touch. "Hey. You're dad needs to talk to you alright?" When a whimper passed the boy's lips, he smiled softly. "It's okay. I'll be right outside if you need anything. Just call and I'll be right there. Okay?"

After a few moments had passed, the boy's grip grew slack and he nodded. His hair was ruffled slightly as the werewolf stood and left the room.

The two sat in silence for a long time before either had the balls to break it. "Stiles. Would you please explain what just happened?" His father was baffled by the show of absolute need from his son towards the Alpha.

Red flushed through the teen's face, painting it a bright crimson. "I...I feel safe. I...I don't know how to explain it, but I feel safe around him. I don't really understand it, but I just do."

John nodded in acknowledgment, shifting awkwardly from side to side. "Uh...Are..." He took a deep breath, settling his eyes on his son. "Are you alright?"

Stiles chuckled darkly. "Am I okay? Really? Of course I'm not alright. I just got through being possessed by a crazy fox spirit demon thing who was dead set on killing everyone important to me. I just found out that _I_ killed Scott." His voice broke on his best friend's name, but continued on. "I don't know if I tried to kill you or Derek or anyone else in the Pack. I don't how Derek can simply _forgive_ me for what I've done. I don't know how you can possibly stand to look at me. I don't know if I can ever face anyone again." His voice slowly rose in volume. "I don't know how the fuck I am ever supposed to face Melissa ever again. I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do and it's _killing _me."

His father stood frozen in place, unable to comprehend the guilt his son was feeling. He knew that saying 'everything is going to be okay' wouldn't help. If anything, it would just make everything worse. Instead of saying anything, he sat beside the shaking teen and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Stiles held on for dear life, pulling John closer than should be physically possible, crying into his shoulder. "Dad...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I...This is all my fault. It's my fault that Scott is dead. It's all my fault."

"No it's not son." He spoke in a comforting tone.

"I'm not talking about the nogitsune." He muttered in a monotonous voice.

"Then what are you talking about Stiles?"

"All of this. Since day one has been my fault. It was me who listened in on that radio call. It was me who dragged Scott in the woods that night. It was me who left him alone to be bit by Peter. It was _me_ dad. I..." He took in a shuddering breath. "It's my fault all of this has happened. If I hadn't dragged Scott into the woods, he would still be alive. He would still be human. He would still be here. I took that away. I took away his life. I took away everything he could have been. I took away his future."

They sat in silence for several moments, neither having anything to say. Though eventually, one of them had to speak. "Stiles. I don't see it that way."

"Then how do you see it dad?"

"From everything that you have told me, from where I stand, you were only being you. Listening In on my calls has been your _thing_ for years. Dragging Scott along had always been a thing too. You had no way to know that that was going to be the night that changed a lot of things. Christ, you didn't even know that werewolves existed. You were only being you. From where I see it, you did nothing wrong. It was Peter who took away his humanity. Not you. And I know that if you had the chance, you would have taken his place as many times as you had to. You didn't kill Scott, the nogitsune did. He took away Scott's future. Peter took away his humanity. He took away his chance at a normal life. Not you. The only thing you are guilty of is sticking by your best friend and trying to save him from what was happening at the time. I know that he wouldn't blame you. I know that no one blames you, not even Melissa. You're family to everyone Stiles. Everyone cares for you. You just have to see it." He rubbed his hands up and down the teen's back in soothing patterns.

Stiles let out a strangled sob, tears falling more freely. The hands on his back felt good, not as nice as when Derek does it, but still enough for the tension to seep out of his limbs. "I'm sorry dad."

"There is nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all." He sighed softly. "I know this may not mean anything, but you'll get better. I know that it will never leave you. It will still haunt you, but it gets better, okay?"

"Okay."

Not even a minute later, Derek sauntered back into the room, phone held precariously between his shoulder and his face. He muttered something into the speaker before turning his attention back to the other two.

"The Pack wants to come by and talk with you." His voice was guarded and distant, giving him an entirely different feel than the man who held the teen the night before.

Panic settled deep within his bones, spreading through his body like a tidal wave. A look of concern passed across the werewolf's face before he masked it with a blank stare.

"The Pack isn't angry at you Stiles. They just want to see you."

He nodded slowly, though the panic didn't ebb. The wolf's stoic expression not helping to calm him. The teen cleared his throat quietly, turning his head to stare at the floor. "Can you both leave? Please."

His father assented incredibly quick, ruffling his hair and muttering a small goodbye before he left the room. The Alpha seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment before he, too, was gone.

Almost immediately his thoughts took total control of his mind, forcing him to think of things he wished he didn't have to, forcing him to remember things he didn't want to. For the human boy, things haunted him like an aura, never letting him breath, never leaving him alone. He still remembered the night of Lydia's party, where she tried to poison everyone, where he hallucinated seeing his father there. His words still haunted his mind. _You killed your mother. You killed her and now you're killing me. _The night he lay paralyzed in the police station. Too weak, too helpless to do anything. He remembers the night Gerard kidnapped him, beat the shit out of him, then left him to face his dad. The expression on his father's face that night still sometimes haunts him. Pain, anger, regret, relief, guilt all mixed into one. The night Lydia pronounced her undying love to Jackson right in front of him. His heart had broken into a million little pieces and he knew. He just _knew_ she would never love him like he did her. He remembered the nights he had thought Derek was dead. He couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't _function_. The night Scott held a flare over a puddle of gasoline, ready to burn himself to the ground. The night he found out his father had been taken by Jennifer. Crazy bitch. He thought he was dying. He couldn't hold on anymore. He thought he was honestly going to go crazy. Then he did. Each and every dream. The fear he felt when he couldn't distinguish dreams from reality. When letters became symbols. He remembered in icy clarity the nogitsune. When he threatened to kill his friends. His family. Everyone. The feelings of having the nogitsune taking control of his body. Knowing he could do nothing to protect himself, to protect anyone. He could only sit by and watch as everything slowly started unraveling. The bomb _he _placed in his father's office. The arrow _he_ shot at Coach. The pain on Scott;s face as _he_ twisted a sword through his best friend's gut. And still. He could do absolutely nothing. Just had to sit back and watch as his friends raced to save him. Raced to protect him. But in the end it failed. He was sane again, partially. He was alive. And Scott was dead. His best friend's words rang in his mind. _You killed me Stiles. You killed me because you wanted to. Because no one is good enough for Stiles Stilinski. Nothing is ever good enough for you._

A wrecked sob broke him out of his trance, pulling him back to reality. His hands unconsciously gripped his throat, still feeling the trance of his best friend's hands there, pulling the life out of him. _You killed me Stiles. Not the other way around. You killed me._ His words were like a vice around his heart, his throat, cutting off his air, his life. _He was protecting you. Because he knew. He knew it wasn't you. And I know that if he had the chance he would gladly do it again._ Derek's voice sounded in his mind, making some of his tension disappear. Making his breath come easier. Making the pain easier. _He loved you. He loved you like a brother, like Pack._ And Stiles knew. He knew that Scott was his brother and vice versa. _Because you're Stiles. Not the nogitsune. Your _Stiles_. The super glue that kept this pack together for a lot longer than I could have._ Warmth flooded through his body, pushing away the chill, the fear, the constant paralyzing scent of death that seemed to circulate around him all the time. He let himself bask in the feeling for awhile until it finally faded, leaving him shivering and confused. He couldn't fathom any reason as to why the wolf would have that affect on him. The words he spoke, Stiles knew deep down, were partially true. But he knew that he did nothing that Derek hadn't done. He was just there, being dragged along for the ride. If anything, he caused more problems for the Pack than he solved. Hence the nogitsune issue. Which had left one of them dead. _Scott_.

He started tasting salt water mixing with his saliva, a hot wetness trailing down his cheeks and dripping dark spots wherever they landed. He _hated_ this. This weakness. This fear and guilt that hung around his head like a noose. His mind wandered back to Scott, wishing for the first time that it had been him to die rather than his best friend. Scott, he deserved to live. He had Kira, Isaac, Allison, Derek, Peter, Cora, his mother and father, who still obviously loved him, Lydia, Ethan, Aiden and even Jackson to some extent. All he had was his father. And his father would have been taken care of by everyone in the Pack. Not just Scott and Melissa. But everyone. He knew he was Pack. He knew everyone cared and depended on him, but if he had been the one to go. If they had just followed through and killed him, they would have eventually forgotten. They would have moved on. Because losing a human member isn't as bad as losing an Alpha. Not by a long shot.

"You're wrong." He snapped out of his reverie long enough to realize he wasn't alone in his room anymore and that he had been talking out loud. "You're wrong." Derek repeated, a sad expression on his face. He almost looked like a lost puppy. _Ha, puppy._

"About what?" The teen asked, already knowing full well what the wolf meant, but wanting to make sure anyway. He needed to make sure how much the Alpha had heard.

"We wouldn't have gotten over it and we sure as hell wouldn't have forgotten you. I told you this last night and I'll tell you again. _You_ are the super glue that held this Pack together for so long. You are a solid member of this Pack." He took an unsure step forward. "It definitely wouldn't have been better if it were you instead of him. It might have even been worse. We would have all fallen apart. Even with Scott there, he would have been so riddled with guilt that the Pack would have just fallen apart before we even got the chance to become like a real Pack." He took another step forward. "You said that a human member isn't as important as the Alpha right? You're also wrong there. Half of my family, before the fire, were human. My father, my youngest sister, my two brothers, Peter's wife and his son, they had all been human. And they died the same way the wolves had. They were just as important if not more so. They kept us wolves in control. They kept us sane when we thought we would lose it."

"That's not the same. They were your family." He gladly accepted the sentiment though. Derek never once talked about his family. It was too painful for him and Stiles understood that. He really did. Happiness welled in his heart for a moment at being trusted enough with this information.

Derek shook his head, taking several steps forward. "No. It is the same. You are my family, this Pack is my family just as much as my blood family was my family. There is no difference between the two."

Warmth once again pebbled in his chest at the admission, a small teary eyes smile pulling onto his face. "Thank you. Not..Not just for saying that, but for telling me. About your family. I know it can be hard to talk about."

"Yes. It is hard. But...But I've been trying to be more open with everyone. Trying to become an actually person as you would put it." Though his voice held no acid, a fond smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"Good. It's nice though. Feeling as though you're part of something. This Pack is amazing. You did well."

Happiness flashed in the wolf's eyes, his smile finally making itself fully known. "Thank you Stiles. I'm just glad you're part of it. It wouldn't be the same without you."

A light blush spotted across his cheeks, coloring them crimson. "Thank you."

They sat in an awkward silence for several moments before Derek finally moved. The smile fell from his face and he crossed his arms across his chest. "The rest of the Pack is here."

As if it were contagious, the smile fell from the boy's face and a sense of dread filled him. "Who is coming?"

He scented the air before replying. "Isaac, Allison, Lydia and Jackson?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, though he let it go, deciding to take the chair beside the bed as his own.

Seconds later, all four of them crashed through the door, all teary eyes, except Jackson who just looked stoic. Upon seeing him they all stopped, all faces in different stages of shock, once again except Jackson who just stood there awkwardly.

The first to break from their trance was Isaac. He all but ran to bed, sliding in beside the teen giving no forms of warning. Stiles yelped in surprise as the puppy pulled him in for a bear hug, crying into his neck. The two girls came simultaneously, both pouncing on the bed like lionesses and curling up on his sides. Jackson stayed where he was.

"We've all been so worried. We were so afraid you wouldn't wake up. When Derek first called us here, you looked dead. So pale and shivering. You looked like a completely different person." Isaac sobbed out into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck slightly.

"You scared the hell out of us Stiles. Don't _ever_ do that again or I swear to God I will castrate you." Lydia managed to sniffle out, snuggling against his other shoulder.

Allison stayed silent at his feet, though she pulled his hand into her own, drawing letters and numbers on his hand. Jackson also stayed silent, though had migrated to the foot of his bed as well, sitting on the only free space there.

"I...Sorry guys. I didn't mean to make you worry." He gulped down his nerves past the lump in his throat long enough to speak.

A comfortable silence fell over all of them as Isaac and Lydia nuzzled him and Allison drew on his hand. His muscles slowly relaxed as a feeling of family and Pack flooded through him, filling him with warmth. He managed to get an arm around Isaac, cuddling him closer and beckoned Jackson to join. The disgruntled look on his face contradicted his actions as he crawled in behind Lydia.

This was his family. All it was missing was Scott.

"How are you holding up Stiles?" Jackson asked, being the first to break the silence. Everyone turned their heads to look at him, questions in all their eyes. He knew. He knew what they were asking about. This had nothing to do with the nogitsune or his physical health. This had to do with his best friend.

No one said anything as he gathered his bearings. Stiles didn't even know if she could form the words. Didn't know if he could make them come out. But he knew everyone was feeling the same. Even Jackson who tried to keep up the asshole facade, but secretly had a soft spot for his Pack. "I.." He cleared his throat, hoping to add a little volume to his voice so the humans in the room could hear him. He tried again. "I miss him."

They all consented, nodding their heads in agreement. Though now that he had finally admitted the obvious truth to even himself he couldn't stop the floodgates from opening.

"He was my best friend. Still is. I...I don't think anyone will ever be able to replace him. I know. Fuck I know that he can never be replaced. I don't care if we don't have the same parents, he is my brother." Tears gathered in his eyes. "I just miss him so much. I've known him since before we could talk. Through thick and thin, through fights and sports, through werewolves and kanimas and nogitsunes, through death and divorce we were always there for each other. When my mother died, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to feel. I wept for hours and hours and he was the one who held me while my father drank. He's the one would rock me back and forth as I had another panic attack. He would sneak in through my window to make sure I was fine and we would play video games to the god awful hours of the morning. He stayed to make sure I stayed distracted, to make sure I was going to be alright. When his parents got a divorce at the end of that year, we switched roles. I held him as he cried, unable to understand what he did wrong. I felt like I could have done more, like he had done for me, but it seemed just my being there helped him. When all of this started, I thought it was _so _cool. I didn't even realize the dangers. Then Peter happened and Gerard and the Kanima and the Alpha Pack. We could always survive, if only by just a thread. We stayed side by side through it all. Then the nogitsune decided it would be fun to possess me. I lost my mind and my body. For the first time since I can remember I was the danger. It wasn't death or divorce or sports or injuries. It wasn't werewolves or kanimas or Gerard or the Alpha Pack. It was me. _I was the danger._ And he tried to protect me, even at the end. I just...I feel so _useless_. I feel like I could have done something different. That maybe it didn't have to happen like this. Like this was only a dream. But it wasn't. It was a nightmare and I was the villain. I killed him. I killed my best friend. I killed my brother."

By this point, everyone except Derek had a steady stream of tears running down their chins, soaking into whatever fabric was there to catch the droplets. Though they all shook their heads at the same time, speaking in unison like they were one person. "You didn't kill him Stiles."

"It wasn't in any way your fault. You had no control over your body." Allison argued, speaking up for the first time since they arrived.

"The nogitsune did this, not you." Isaac offered, pulling the lanky teen closer into his chest and returning to nuzzling his neck.

"They're right. You shouldn't beat yourself up over this. You did everything you could to ward him off." Lydia spoke up, kissing his cheek lightly before going back to laying on his shoulder.

"I know how it feels to not have any control over your body, to completely be at the will of someone else. Not knowing whether you hurt someone close to you until it's too late. I know it's not easy, but trust me when I say that it gets better." Jackson muttered from his place on the bed, returning to nuzzling into Lydia's hair.

Surprisingly enough, Stiles felt a rush of warmth spread through him at Jackson's words. Because he was right. He had been in Stiles's position before. Sure he had never killed anyone close to him, but he had killed. He had attacked his best friend at a gay dance club. If anyone knew what it was like it would be Jackson or Derek. One having been in the situation and one having lost people before. Everyone else was in the same grief he was.

"I told you." Derek spoke up from his chair, arms still crossed over his chest, but he was obviously relaxed. Sadness lit his eyes, but he had a small smile on his face as he looked at his family.

"Yeah yeah Sourwolf." Everyone chuckled lightly at the nickname, hugging the teen closer.

A few hours later, after crying and talking more, Ethan, Aiden, and Danny walked in. They said nothing though, simply patting a patch of empty skin with their hands. Once condolences were patted out, the three took a seat on the sofa he hadn't realized was even in his room.

The room was set in a comfortable silence, everyone breathing as one. The teens surrounding Stiles were either asleep or almost there. Even the three on the sofa were dozing off.

It was...nice. A small smile spread across his lips as he gazed around at his family. The family that had always been there, but he had never seen it before now. Tears gathered once more in his eyes, but he blinked them back. Enough tears for tonight.

* * *

Stiles woke up in the middle of the night. Some time during the night, his father had joined them and was passed out on a wooden chair in the corner. Isaac was half on the bed, half on his chest. Allison was curled in a tight ball, hugging his feet to her chest. Lydia and Jackson were pressed back to back, Jackson's arms around her waist, and hers around Stiles's. Ethan, Aiden and Danny were all passed out, Danny laying his head on Ethan's chest, the former alpha hugging his boyfriend closer. Aiden was sprawled out unceremoniously across the rest of the couch, taking up more room than he needed. Derek still sat in his chair, arms lax at his sides and his legs crossed at the ankles. Small snores escaped his throat, head leaned against a cabinet.

This was his family. It would always be his family. This small band of miscreants and teens made up his family and he doesn't think he would ever have it any other way. Scott would have loved to have seen this. He would have loved to have been a part of this. He knew that this is what he wanted from becoming a werewolf. Sure, the powers were cool, enhanced speed and agility, superhuman strength and senses, but what Scott had wanted through everything, no matter how much he said he didn't like Derek or Jackson or Ethan or Aiden, this is what he wanted more than anything. A Pack. A family.

A sad smile tugged on his lips as he thought out his message to his best friend.

_I know you can hear me Scotty my boy. You have always been able to hear me, even when I didn't want you to. You always listened even if it was mindless babble. I just wanted to tell you thank you. Thank you for being the best brother that anyone could ever ask for. You can never be replaced. You will always have a place in my heart. In all of our hearts. I also wanted to say I'm sorry. I realize now that it wasn't my fault. Maybe a little of it was, but I didn't kill you. I know that for a fact. I could have never done that to my best friend. You're too important to me._

_Anyway, I hope you can see me right now. Us. The Pack. I know that you would have loved to have been here, but...Actually you are here. Because you live on in our hearts. WOW that sounded really sappy. If you were here you would have punched me, I just know it. The Pack. We all miss you buddy. All of us. Even Jackson. Surprising right? No, he always had a soft spot for the Pack. For where he belongs. I wish you didn't have to miss this. It's pretty warm in this puppy pile._

_These guys are pretty great surprisingly. Jackson is being less of a douche. Lydia is well...Lydia. Isaac is still just a little puppy. And I think Allison has finally accepted her true destiny as a hunter. She'll protect us. I know she will. Derek. Well he's gotten better. He smiles more and he's trying to open up. I think that we may have been a little too hard on the guy, he's not too bad. Ethan and Aiden are here too. I think they really did want to be part of your Pack. I know they miss you. Oh, and Danny is here. Derek finally told him about everything and he took to it pretty well. He's trying to work with Deaton on learning spells or something. So he can protect himself from all this crazy shit. I don't blame him honestly._

_I love you man. Never forget that. I'm sorry how everything ended up going down, but you're always going to be here, watching over us to make sure were not being stupid. And if we are, just strike us with lightning or something. Make us see what we're doing wrong. I miss you. I miss my brother. I just hope it's better where you are. I hope you can run around like a wolf and people scratch you behind your ears and give you lots of food and rub your belly. I hope you're happy. I love you man. I'll talk to you again soon. Bye._

He took in a deep breath, holding it until it became painful then blowing it out. He blinked his eyes a couple times, trying to rid himself of the sleep he can feel in the corners. He almost felt relieved. Like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest.

"Can't sleep?" A voice whispered from beside him.

"Naw. How about you?"

"You're thinking woke me up." Came the reply.

"Whatever Sourwolf. I wasn't thinking. I was talking to Scott. Telling him that somehow, somehow we just might survive this hell hole."

As plain as day, he could see the werewolf rolling his eyes, a fond smile playing at the edges of his lips. "I'm glad you're not blaming yourself anymore."

The teen shrugged, though immediately thought he awoke the other occupants of the bed, though breathed a sigh of relief when none of them even moved. "I still do, kind of anyway. But I know that I didn't do it. The nogitsune did. I don't think I will ever be able to fully forgive myself, but I'm also not riddled with guilt."

"Good."

A silence spread through the room. Stiles had thought that the wolf had fallen back to sleep, though he wasn't sure. His suspicions were cleared up when the Alpha spoke again. "They really were worried about you. I don't think they blamed you once. You really are the heart of our Pack. You're like the Pack Mom."

The teen scoffed at the man, cheeks reddening. "Shut up. I am not the Pack Mom."

"Yes you are. It's a compliment Stiles. I'm not calling you a girl or anything."

"Fine. That's fine then." The flush slowly receded. "I'm happy that you are a part of this family. I know that we were kinda hostile enemies in the past, but I'm glad that you are here."

"Thank you Stiles. That means a lot actually. You should get some rest. They might discharge you tomorrow."

"Okay. You too though. You need sleep too."

"Good night Stiles."

"Night Derek."

As the snores slowly returned, he relaxed once more against his pillows. Running his eyes over his mix matched family he had one last thought before falling into a dreamless sleep.

_I think that we might just be okay, Scott._

* * *

**A/N: I decided to change the entire ending to this chapter. I decided against the rushed Sterek, sorry for those who wanted to smut to begin. I just really wanted this to be a slow build fic. So the Sterek will be slow build, and the plot might be too. But I plan on continuing with some action in the next few chapters. So I hope you guys stick around.**

**I just had to do the Pack feels this chapter. I kinda needed to reintroduce some of the characters that are going to be throughout the story. There will be some OC's but most of the characters are going to be the original cast.**

**Don't worry. Stiles isn't going to forget about Scott. Scott will be in the story, just not physically. I am thinking of doing the diary thing that I did this chapter every few chapters. When Stiles just checks in on Scott. Tells him how things are going. I would love your opinion on that idea.**

**Thank you for reading~I will see you tomorrow my Lovelies.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys~ I just wanted to say thank you for all those who have reviewed and are currently following this story. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside ~blushes~**

**Thanks for sticking with it. I don't fully know where I am going to take this chapter but I guess we'll see what happens. So. Here you go.**

* * *

The teen's first conscious thought upon waking up was _Holy Jesus it's hot in here._ Though he blamed that on the multitude of bodies wrapped around his own like a vice. No matter that he could feel the sweat drip from his brow or his hair matted uncomfortably across his forehead, a small smile still managed to pull up his lips. Each body was a comfortable presence, warming his mind and heart. It seemed as if everyone's breathing matched each others, like they were one being rather than 11 different people. And he dared to say that it was peaceful, no matter how much he desperately needed to pee.

The emotions and tension that had been feasible in the air the night before had all but disappeared leaving feelings of Pack and family. He wondered idly if he was the only one feeling it, though almost immediately, Derek's words ran through his head again. _You're like the Pack Mom_. He repeated his reaction from the night before, flushing in embarrassment and irritation. How dare Derek question his masculinity like that. Sure, he had the physical strength of a dandelion, but he had the cunning abilities of a...You know what, he had damn good cunning abilities, screw making comparisons.

He could easily imagine the knowing smirk the wolf would give him if he were awake, watching as the teen mulled over the statement like it were the meaning of life. But this is what he does. He worries about things that he doesn't particularly need to worry about. He looks into simple statements until he thinks there is a whole different meaning than there actually is. This is why he is the brains of the Pack. OK maybe that goes to Lydia, but he at least helps her be the brains.

He realized then that everyone in the Pack had their place. Each had their own trait that made the Pack better. Allison is the badass fighter who will show no mercy if you hurt someone important to her, though can still be strangely compassionate. Danny is the newbie, though he can adapt really well considering everything that has happened recently. Ethan and Aiden are the pillars of strength, somewhat like crutches. They are dependable to keep those they care for alive even if it means they get hurt in the process. Lydia is obviously the brains. The evil mastermind. Though her ideas, as well as her banshee badassness, makes her definite part of the Pack. Jackson is also dependable, even if he doesn't want to be there in the first place. His want to be accepted makes him oddly compassionate in an asshole way. Melissa and John are the protectors. Each being able to look over and after the Pack. Isaac is the puppy. Isaac is the one that you can go to for anything and he will just listen. Derek...Derek is the Dad. He's the Pack Dad. He cares for every member of the Pack like they were his own children. He would gladly jump in front of a bullet for any of us. And, as Derek had so eloquently put it, he is the Pack Mom. He cares for all the pups, human and wolf alike. He is the comedic relief in a stressful situation. He's the one that will allow the Pack to pounce on him and be the one to end up at the bottom of a puppy pile. Hence right now.

The teen rolled his eyes at his new epiphany that should have been obvious from the start. Maybe this is why he isn't the brains anymore. But if he were being honest with himself, he wouldn't have it any other way. He is perfectly happy being 'the Pack Mom', as long as he has a Pack he can mother for.

He was pulled form his reverie by a small chuckle and a tug as his IVs were changed. Ms. Brady, or Nurse Brady, or something like that looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "You seem to be in higher spirits Mr. Stili-Stiles."

"Uh...Yeah. Thanks." If he could, he would have scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, though seeing as both were either pinned to his side or were wrapped around a wolf he didn't see that happening anytime soon.

"You seem to have a very close..." She motioned to the cluster of bodies wrapped around him and placed haphazardly around the room. It almost as if she didn't know what to call them. First, it was obvious that they weren't related. Everyone other than Derek and his father were any older than twenty. Maybe Ethan and Aiden, though they didn't look it. Second, she seemed almost embarrassed at how close they were. Like she had never seen something like this. Which she probably hasn't. This is Pack. Not really friends. Not really family. Something much better than those.

"Yeah. My family and I are pretty tight knit." His flush only seemed to darken. He chose not to mention that almost everyone in his 'family' were practically boning each other. He didn't think the nurse would accept the innuendo of incest. He shrugged mentally.

"I see that. It's nice though. Being that close with a bunch of your friends." She smiled innocently, changing the bags in his IV and checking the machines spread around his bedside.

He had to fight back a growl, surprising himself in the process. He felt oddly...protective of what others thought of his family. Felt protective of his Pack in general. Well that was definitely a change of pace. Maybe he really was the Mom. Instead of voicing his internal freakout, he responded with a "Yeah."

The room was encased in silence. Lets just say it wasn't a pleasant one. The nurse worked quietly, like she didn't want to wake anyone in the room, though Stiles knew that the wolfs, if not everyone, was already awake. They were just keeping up appearances. He half expected her to leave without saying anything else, but at the threshold of the door, she turned back to him. "I spoke with Dr. Augury. He said that you can be discharged whenever you like."

He nodded in response and she was off, the only trace of her being there was the now full IV bag hanging above his head. He sighed. He just wanted to leave.

The moment she was gone, everyone started stirring from their faux slumber, each grumbling about something or another aching and/or sore from sleeping in the same positions all night.

"What was I even in the hospital for?" Stiles said, choosing to ignore the moans and groans of the teens surrounding him. The only ones deciding to stay silent were his father and Derek. No big surprise. Both have never been men of a lot of words.

"You passed out and Derek found you. He carried you to the hospital and they found that you were severely dehydrated and had a mild concussion. Also, you wouldn't wake up for like three days. But that had more to do with the nogitsune than the dehydration or concussion." His father responded offhandedly, like it was a no big deal that he had been in a coma for three days.

"And that's no big deal?!" The teen screeched quietly, not really in the mood for a nurse or doctor to check up on him. Or talk to him. Or worry about him.

"At the time you bet your ass it was. When Melissa saw him carrying you, she thought you were dead. You were all limp and pale. And you wouldn't wake up for _three_ days. We thought that you were never going to wake up again. But then Derek called us yesterday saying you were awake and talking and we all nearly had a heart attack." His father provided again. "Everyone was here when they could be. I was there when I wasn't at work. And Derek was here the whole time. We were all really worried about you son."

He flushed in embarrassment, tainting his cheeks crimson and painting the tips of his ears pink. "Sorry for worrying you." He hated that he was the cause of the bags under all their eyes. That he was the cause of their tears and stress. He hated people worrying about him just as much as he hated people being hurt.

This seemed to entice action in all of them. The three on the couch came closer, patting his shins or arms. His father grabbed one hand and Derek grabbed the other. Everyone on the bed pulled him closer like they were afraid he was going to disappear and never be seen again. And Stiles let himself bask in the warmth, in the love of his Pack, if only for a little longer. He felt as if nothing could ever touch him again. Not like the nogitsune had. Nothing will ever be able to tear this Pack apart. Nothing will be able to hurt them. And everything was perfect. But he knew, deep down somewhere, that his Pack isn't completely safe. That all it takes is the next supernatural being to curse the town with its presence to put everyone in danger once again. And he knew that this peace, this perfection will be fleeting. That something is going to come to rip it to shreds. But somehow, he also knew that his Pack would be fine. That nothing will ever be able to tear them apart. They could survive anything and everything that came their way. Because they had each other. They weren't alone anymore. They had Scott and his mother to watch over them. They had Derek's family to help guide them. They would be safe. They would stay safe. Somehow.

"Lets go home."

* * *

The drive home was comfortable, though neither man spoke. Stiles opted to stare out the window, watching houses and stores flash by. At the moment, his mind was otherwise occupied. After he had said _Lets go home_, everyone had pretty much bailed. Ethan, Aiden and Danny were the first to leave, though they hadn't moved right away. They gave him a small smile and pat to the head before leaving. Isaac and Allison left together, hand in hand, after crying for what felt like forever. They sobbed about how much sorry they were that they had to leave and after several soothing words on his part, they had finally left. Lydia had given him a kiss on the cheek and a rather snide comment and Jackson gave him an awkward on handed hug before they left together too. In under 10 minutes, everyone but Derek and his father had left.

The Alpha seemed a little hesitant to leave, unsure whether or not Stiles would have another freak out if he tried to go, but after being snuggled into an inch of his life, he told the wolf that he would be fine. He still seemed hesitant, so he promised to go over to the loft first thing in the morning. This seemed to do the trick and Derek left without another word.

After going through a small check-up with a couple nurses, he made a small note that Nurse Brady was not one of them, and signing what seemed like dozens of forms and consent sheets and notes and the whole shebang, he was allowed to leave. He and his father were warned that he should skip school for a couple days to ensure everything was fine and he couldn't participate in lacrosse practice for no less than two weeks. The school he was fine with, but why did they have to take away lacrosse too? Right, concussion.

The teen was pulled from his reverie when his stomach growled rather loudly, forcing a blush upon his cheeks. His father chuckled lowly.

"Hungry?" He asked in a gruff voice.

"Just a little. I guess being out for three days does that to a person." Stiles muttered out, only half in the conversation.

"Do you want to go out? Or we could order in?"

"That's okay dad. I'll just make a sandwich or something when we get home."

The teen saw his father's face fall out of the corner of his eye and he sighed. "If you want to we can. Doesn't really matter to me." The boy tried again and saw John perk up.

"Sure. Why don't we order some Chinese?"

"Fine." He assented. "But no noodles. Too much sodium."

The Sheriff grumbled a complaint but agreed nonetheless.

The drive home seemed to take triple the time than it should have, though they eventually managed to get to their destination. His childhood home now felt lonely and dark, like no one had lived here for a very long time. It reminded him of the old Hale house except without the gaping holes and the lack of anything. It was a shell of what it used to be. His house felt like only that. It no longer felt like a home. Like it was missing that spark of life, of family, of belonging. And he no longer felt as if he belonged here.

This house held so many memories for him, both good and bad. Memories of his mother before she had gotten so sick, memories of after the dementia got bad. Memories of after she had died and his dad had started drinking. Memories of Scott as they would run around the house, up and down the house, causing as much destruction as they could. Memories of late night video game wars and caffeine induced a comas. Memories of brotherhood and friendship and love and family.

"I'm going to my room. Tell me when the food gets here." He mumbled to his father, already heading up the stairs.

"Alright son." John responded, falling haphazardly across the couch and reaching for the phone.

Stiles muttered something indistinguishable under his breath, collapsing face first into his bed. Without his Pack there, without anyone there, the guilt returned, the fear, the panic, the death all returned. Suddenly the weight of the world rested against his shoulders again. And this time, when the panic attack hit, he had no one to bring him out of it.

His lungs and chest burned with the lack of air it was getting. His head pounded with each beat of his rapidly beating heat. His stomach churned and his muscles ached with tension. Thoughts of his mother and Scott and the nogitsune and death swarmed in his mind. Tears ran down his cheeks in torrents, mixing in with the red of his sheets, turning them maroon in random splotches. Sweat trickled down his back and brow, making his bangs stick and clothes cling, as chills ran through his body. He heaved violently, clutching pale fingers to tense stomach. Pain erupted throughout his pain, blossoming into agony as vicious shakes rattled through him.

It could have lasted minutes or hours, but the shivering slowly died away, his breath coming evenly as his heart slowed its erratic beating. This, by far, had been the worst panic attack he had ever had in his life, even after his mother had passed, even when Scott was bit or his father was taken. He ached from head to toe and exhaustion took root through his mind. The teen curled up in a tight ball and immediately fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

Stiles awoke face down in a pile of muddy and wet leaves. Spluttering them from his mouth and wiping at his face with his hand, he took a small inventory of his surroundings. Somehow he had ended up in the woods, though they felt familiar. Taking a few steps forward, he recognized the similarities to somewhere he had been several times. He was in the woods surrounding the Hale property. He spun in an unsure circle, making positive sure he was alone before heading to the destroyed home, figuring he would call someone to come and get him once he was there.

The teen seemed to walk forever and still having gotten nowhere. His legs burned slightly and his breathing had slowly sped up from exertion. It looked like he was in the exact same spot he had been when he woke up, though the pile of leaves were missing. Deciding to take a rest, he leaned against a tree and slowly slid down it, scratching his arms and back in the process.

From behind him, a twig snapped. Goosebumps flashed across his skin, warning him of the immediate danger. Jumping to his feet, he did the only thing he could. He ran. Not bothering to look behind him, he sprinted in the opposite direction of the supposed danger. Covering much more ground than before, he noticed when the trees began thinning and almost thanked the heavens. Almost.

The air around him seemed to change, making him cough and his eyes water. The farther he ran, the more dense the air became until it was almost black. That was when he heard the screaming. Forgetting about the burn in his lungs and throat, he followed it only to find he could barely see. He sniffed at the air, bringing on a coughing fit. Only then did he realize it was smoke. Something was burning. But still, he continued on, following the agonized screams through the thick wall of smoke. By the time he made it to the source of the smoke, he could barely stay awake. He was balancing on the edge of consciousness when the smoke suddenly thinned out and heat prickled on his skin, warning him he was getting close to the scene. Several more feet and he could see in front of him, only he wished he couldn't.

A breath caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. The Hale house was burning, completely engulfed in flames. Agonized creams came from each level, proving just how many people were in the house, burning alive. He rushed forward, looking for any way to penetrate the flames, though found none. He looked around for something to quell the raging inferno, though found nothing. He could only sit back and watch as the fire tore through the house, breaking it bit by burning bit, helpless. Again. Cries of pain slowly died away until the house was silent. Stiles didn't know how long he watch the Hale house burn, but the moment the last scream died away, he took an unsteady step forward, then another and another until he could feel the flames licking at his face and arms, through his clothes and within his body. He reached an unsteady hand forward, the fire catching light to something shiny in the middle of his palm. The moment he realized what it was, he dropped in to the ground. The metal lighter glinting in the blaze. He looked down in horror at his other hand which held an empty canister of gasoline. Dropping the plastic to the ground, he took several steps back, an scream beginning to well in his throat. Instead, he ran again.

Running seemed to be the only thing he could do in his life. Running away from the situations that cause him stress. From his own selfishly stupid actions. From his problems and issues. From the happenings and the past. From his future and his present. Running. Always running. And it had finally caught up with him. His lungs had finally given up, his legs buckling beneath him as everything caught up with him, crushing him with the weight of the world. Everything he had been running from until now forcing their way under his skin and into is mind. He could feel them coursing through his veins as he got back up and ran. He had been running for his entire life, but there was nothing to run from anymore. He had finally caught up with himself.

His body finally had given up on him after about the third mile. His lungs burned from the smoke and lack of oxygen and his legs ached with a fire as real as the one surrounding the Hale house. His run had turned into a pitiful jog that turned into a walk before he just stopped, collapsing on the ground. His heart beat out of his chest, pulling him that much closer to cardiac arrest. His eyes drooped in exhaustion and his body gave in.

Stiles awoke for the second time in the forest, though night had fallen, giving the woods a Silent Hill look. Still feeling the after effects of the fire, he rolled onto his back, breathing in the chilly, wet air. After clearing his head of any cloudiness, he curled into a small ball on his side, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. He knew he shouldn't stay out here in the creepy, haunted forest, but he couldn't will himself to move to grab his phone, even with all of the possibilities of the things that go bump in the night and just might try to eat him.

He could still hear the screams of agonizing pain ringing in his mind. He could still feel the waves of heat that threatened to burn him if he got any closer. Still feel the terror as he found the canister of gas and the lighter. Still feel the helplessness of being able to do nothing. Again. Still feel the burn in his body that the smoke left there. He could still see the flames engulfing the house, occupants still inside. Still see the blaze try to engulf anything to keep it alive.

Before being able to give it much more thought, the forest began to morph and shift, the scene becoming unclear and hazy. Small waves rippled through the air like static until it had finished its alteration. The teen now stood in a completely empty clearing, not a tree in sight. He swung around on his heel, partially to make sure he is alone and partially to see if he is hallucinating. He wasn't. A feeling of dread filled his stomach as he took a step forward then another and another until he stood in the middle of the field. It almost reminded him of the lacrosse field, but without the paint and lights and bleachers and woods and school. Alright maybe it didn't remind him of the lacrosse field. But the clearing felt somewhat familiar. Like he had been there before. A memory tugged at the back of his mind, itching to be seen, though the second he tried, the urge disappeared, leaving his mind slightly blank.

"_Stiles._" A voice sounded through his mind, bringing his attention back to the present instead of chasing a memory he couldn't seem to reach. He spun around on his heel, though found no one. He opened his ears for his name, a footstep, even the sound of breathing, but nothing moved in the clearing, not even the wind blew. It was eerily quiet, making his fear double.

"_Stiles_." He twisted around to find the source of the voice, but again found nothing. A small gust of wind blew through the field, raising goosebumps on his skin. Dread and panic flooded through his mind, but he chose to ignore the instincts to tell him to run. He took a step forward, but found his path blocked by something solid. Looking down, it almost looked like a pile of stones. But upon further inspection, he found that it looked like a body.

His breath hitched in his throat as he took a stumbling step backwards, falling onto his tailbone. He scurried away from the body. A body he knew. The more he moved away, the closer the body seemed to get until he was staring into lifeless brown eyes. The body was bloody and broken, sprawled out in impossible directions. Blood still seeped from its still open mouth, dripping into the grass below. Cuts were scattered in several areas, the most concentrated being the torso. The usually tan skin was now pale in the moonlight.

It was Scott.

Stiles screamed into the night, filling it with all his pain and anguish, his guilt and anger. Anger at himself. Anger at the body that lay still in the field. Anger at the fucking world. He crawled farther down the field until he ran into another solid object. His body tensed for another scream, though died in his throat at the sight of a large boulder. He leaned back against it, the cool surface sending shivers through his limbs. The wind played through his best friend's tousled hair, through his blood matted clothes. Stiles watched the mass of limbs, waiting for it to get up, waiting for it to do something. But it never once moved and it will never move again.

He dropped his head into his hands, gripping his own hair in a frenzy and pulling. The pain in his scalp helped to clear his mind, though only slightly. A lump gathered in his throat as he felt the urge to scream again. To ail and sob and yell and shout until his voice was dead and his throat raw. But no sound would come out. A tightness wrapped around his heart and mind, squeezing until it felt like they would explode. He expected a panic attack, was waiting for it, but it never came. Instead he sat against a rock, shaking until his muscles cramped with tension, until his lungs couldn't get anymore air, until his head ached, until his body finally crumpled to the ground.

"_You did this Stiles. We did this._" A chuckle came from beside him, breaking through his agony of self-hate. He was faced with something he thought he would never see again. Hoped he would never see again. The nogitsune.

"_Aren't you proud Stiles?_" His voice held a mocking tone as it watched the lifeless form of his best friend. _"We did this. Aren't you happy?_" The fox laughed again, but his voice carried something the teen had never heard from him. Happiness. This sick demon was happy that his best friend was dead.

"_You did this Stiles_." He said, ignoring the boy next to him.

The teen opened his mouth to fight the words, to deny them, but no sound came out. The truth of the fox's words rang out into the air. "No..." He whispered out, tears beginning to well in his eyes. The noose around his neck tightened with his agony, with the truth of what he had done. The vice around his heart pulled, making him yell out in pain.

"_You did this Stiles. You did this. Take the responsibility. You did this. This is your fault. You killed him. You killed him. You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM STILES!"_

"No. No I...No." The teen jolted to an upright position, staring in horror at the body that still lay across from him, slowly growing closer and closer, closer until he was once again staring into his best friend's dead eyes.

Scott's mouth moved, his blood soaked lips brushing against each other, though his words were lost in the wind. The teen knelt down next to his body, pressing his ear to the wolf's lips. The words...

"_You killed me Stiles._" They said over and over again like a mantra.

The boy jerked back as if he was slapped. "No...No I...I didn't..." But he even felt the lie in his words. He had...He had to get away. To get out of here. To go and never come back. He ran the opposite direction of Scott. Of the nogitsune. Of the pain and guilt.

Running. He's always been running. But he just can't run anymore because no matter how fast you go, how far you can go, you will always catch up with yourself.

As he ran, the clearing began to change again, but he didn't slow down. He didn't stop until he was sure they would never catch up. _But the problem with running is it always seems to catch up with you._

The scene had morphed into the white room. The empty white room with the mirror. But this time, there was no mirror.

The teen had no time to gather his bearings before the voice came back. _"You finally did it." _The voice seemed to come out of no where, but it didn't possess the deep baritone of the nogitsune. Instead, it sounded slightly girly, carrying a hint of childhood innocence. Just like...Scott.

"Did what?" The teen asked, though unwilling to hear the answer. Unwilling to hear what the voice will tell him. Tell him the it was his fault. His fault for Scott's death.

"_You finally killed them_."

The teen's eyes grew wide. _Them_. Plural.

His breath hitched in his throat as he looked up, the ceiling dotted in bits of red. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he told himself not to turn around. It was yelling at him to not turn around. He turned around.

The sight made his stomach heave. Everywhere. Everywhere red. Everything was covered in blood. It was dotted across the ceiling, painted on the walls, puddled on the floor. Covering the bodies in which the blood had originated from. And he knew them all.

Lydia. His father. Melissa. Allison. Ethan and Aiden. Danny. Jackson. Peter. Cora. Jackson. Isaac. Derek. They all they lay in puddles of their own blood. Each had their mouths open, blood dripping on the floor, making a sickening sound. Like water hitting itself. All were covered in gashes and cuts, pouring blood on the tiles.

Stiles lurched forward, heaving, threatening to spill whatever he had in his stomach. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at their lifeless faces, remembering each memory he shared with them. He felt his heart break, each person taking a little piece of the shattered rubble. His body ached, burned with hatred. He gasped for breath, trying to replenish his air, but the oxygen around him was tainted with the scent of death, he could taste the blood on his tongue.

"_You killed them Stiles._" Scott said again.

The teen looked down at his own hands, finding them covered in his Pack's blood.

* * *

Stiles awoke with a scream, blood curdling and unforgiving. His hair was matted to his forehead and his clothes clung to his lithe form. Tears had found their way into his eyes, trailing hot tears down his cheeks. His breath came in short succession, lungs burning without the air. He could still taste the blood that lingered on his taste buds. His heart beat in an erratic symphony.

"I killed them." He said to himself, staring wide eyed at his hands, which were now clean, glowing in the moonlight streaming through the window.

"Killed who?" Came a voice from beside him.

Stiles let out another scream before quickly quieting down. His mouth gaped open in shock and relief. The teen hurriedly pulled the wolf into a hug, grabbing as tightly as he could. "You're alive." His tears fell faster, soaking into the black cloth his face was buried into.

"Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?" Derek muttered, returning the hug as if it were second nature. He wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him unbelievably closer.

"I...I had a dream. A nightmare. I had killed...so many people." His voice cracked as short sobs wracked through him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The Alpha said quietly, soothingly, though his voice was laced with worry and pain.

The teen was already shaking his head. "Maybe...in the morning."

"Alright." He tried to keep the disappointed tone from showing. All he wanted to do was help the teen, though he didn't know how. Didn't even know if he could.

An awkward silence spread through the room. Neither knowing what to say or how to say it. Stiles broke the silence first. "I'm sorry."

"What? Why?"

"Because of everything. I just...I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to put up with me. No one should. I'm just...taking up room. Getting in the way. All I ever do is worry you or my dad or someone else, but none of you need that kind of stress. You don't deserve it." The boy reasoned.

"No. That isn't true at all. We don't _put_ up with you. And you never get in the way. Never once. All you ever do is try to help. And we only worry about you because we want to. You're family. That's what family does. You are important to all of us. You don't deserve the stress that you put on yourself."

"I..." Stiles tried. "I don't...I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"I'm sor-" The teen was immediately cut off by a growl.

"Don't apologize." Derek snapped out, eyes bleeding red. Red. Like blood.

The teen whimpered, cowering against the chest he held onto like a life line. He buried his face back into his shoulders, small whines and whimpers making their way out of his throat.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just...Sorry."

Stiles cleared his throat in a feeble attempt to get his raging emotions under control. He took several deep breaths, trying to steady his heart beat. "It's alright. It just...took me by surprise."

Silence once again took over the room, both men trying to get emotions under control, trying to settle their minds and heart. The teen eventually pulled away from his clutching, moving to stand a few feet away

"Derek?" The boy questioned, his voice being laced with insecurity.

"Yeah?"

"Can you...? Can you stay?..." He shifted awkwardly from side to side.

A warm smile spread across his face, grabbing the wrist of the boy in front of his and pulling him back into an embrace. "Yeah. Of course I'll stay."

"Will you...lay with me? I mean...like..." His face flooded in embarrassment, painting his face crimson.

"Yeah." The wolf said with a chuckle. He pulled the boy tighter before letting him go. The teen seemed to get the message and sat down on the bed, laying down, his face growing hotter and hotter. Derek shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes, almost immediately lay next to the embarrassed teen.

As if second nature, Stiles curled up into the warm chest of the man, snuggling his face into his neck. "Thanks." He felt his body slowly start to relax, the tension seeping out of his muscles. He could quickly feel himself growing warmer, the wolf acting like his own personal furnace.

"No problem. If you ever need anything, just call. I'll be there. We're Pack. Pack does anything to help each other." He said nonchalantly, shrugging slightly.

"Yeah. We are Pack." A small smile tugged at his lips, the fear he felt upon waking up disappearing quickly. It seemed like everything grew worse when he was alone, but when surrounded by his Pack, everything was better. He didn't feel as lonely. He didn't feel like he didn't belong anymore. Because he has a place in the Pack. With everyone in the Pack.

"Good night Stiles."

"Good night Derek." The teen said, muffling a yawn. It took several moments, but he eventually succumbed to his exhaustion, falling asleep in the werewolf's arms for the second time.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't really know what to expect from this chapter. I'm sorry if the ending was kind of rushed. I didn't really know what to do here. I'm thinking that there will be the start of some action in the next chapter, but I have yet to decide yet. I don't know. I guess we'll find out.**

**I don't think I'll be able to update tomorrow, but I'll try.**

**Thank you to everyone who has supported this story and who have reviewed. The reviews help guys, so please, if you have any comments or ideas, let me know.**

**See you later my Lovelies~**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys. Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Been pretty busy with school. Anyway, I'm not too sure where I'll be going with this chapter. I think that it's mostly just going to be angst and feels, but by the end, there will be some action.**

**Also, there are some things that I need to point out. I changed some of the original plot. First, Jackson never left for England. He had been there through the nogitsune and Alpha Pack and everything. Also, Lydia and Aiden aren't together. Lydia is with Jackson and Aiden is with an OC you'll meet later in the story. Peter is still creepy, but is a solid member of Pack. And Cora is with them too. Also, just thought I would point it out, Derek is still the Alpha. Once Scott had died, those in his Pack moved into Derek's. If anything else changes, I'll let you know.**

**So here you go.**

* * *

The teen awoke in the middle of a huge puppy pile, slowly burning him alive with the intensity of their heat. Sometime in the middle of the night Isaac and the twins had joined them. With every hour that passed, it seemed like someone new would arrive until they were forced onto the floor in a huge mass of bodies. Though, no matter how many people arrived and wrapped themselves around him, he had managed to stay in Derek's arms. Now, he was practically sitting in the wolf's lap, his head laying on the man's chest. He snuggled closer, feeling the arms unconsciously constrict around him.

Over the last few weeks, he could feel the Pack growing closer, becoming like a real family. Even now, he could feel it. Their breathing were all in sync, hearts beating to the same rhythm. He could sense the connection to the Pack, with the Pack growing stronger with each passing day. Even with all the tragedies and threats, they had all managed to come together, even when they didn't want to. Now, it almost felt like one being stretched out into 14 different people. They moved as one, thought like one (sometimes), breathed as one. They were one.

_Become one with the Pack. One with the Pack you will become. _The teen chuckled softly, a small smile pressing across his face.

"What's so funny?" A soft whisper said from beside him. Blue eyes peeked out from under an arm, wide and innocent.

"Nothing. I was just thinking about something. Sorry man. I didn't mean to wake you." Came the mumbled reply.

"Uh...Sorry to burst your bubble, but everyone has been awake for awhile." A small smile pulled up on Isaac's face, though his eyes gleamed in playfulness.

Red flooded the human's cheeks, painting him a light crimson. He spluttered out a jumble of nonsense, arms flailing at his sides, colliding with something soft, though hard. Upon turning to investigate, the teen grew unbelievably darker, though immediately broke into a fit of gut wrenching laughter. Stiles, in his moment of embarrassment and flailing, had managed to strike the Alpha in the face. The look of absolute bewilderment on his face causing another series of laughing to start. Around the room, everyone let out their own sounds of amusement, but it seemed as if Isaac and Cora were laughing just as hard as he was.

A growl sounded from behind him, all laughing dying out except for the chuckles of one Stiles Stilinski. The sudden silence seemed to make the teen all the more hysterical. Pain erupted from his abdomen, forcing him to wrap his arms around himself, trying not to die from laughter. Tears pricked in his eyes from the intensity of the situation. Another growl sounded through the room.

"Sorry dude. You should have seen your face though." Stiles said in between short bursts of laughter. All the other teenagers tried and failed to keep the amusement off their faces, though this only seemed to make the wolf angrier.

"Shut up Stiles." The Alpha muttered. Upon further inspection, the man's ears were flooded with a twinge of pink and his eyes were avoiding all other occupants in the room.

"Aw. You're embarrassed. That's adorable" The teen teased, causing another round of giggles to fill the room.

"Stiles." The wolf warned in a low voice, the sound resembling that of a growl. Big surprise.

"The Big Bad Wolf knows how to stop brooding." Another bout of chuckles.

"Stiles. Shut up." Anger seeped through his slight embarrassment, his voice vitriolic, though his irritation only seemed to push another laugh from the teen's mouth.

"But this is improvement. This should be celebrated." His arms flailed at his sides again, mimicking the opening to a champagne bottle.

"Stiles. I swear to God if you don't stop, I'm going to kill you." His arms tightened painfully around the teen's torso, cutting off another round of laughter.

"Yeah yeah. Your threats don't work on me anymore Sourwolf." The teen rolled his eyes in a mocking impression of sarcasm.

The familiar nickname seemed to push the man off the edge. His eyes bled red, fangs protruding his upper lip. A loud growl ripped through the room as he threw the teen carelessly down onto the bed. The Alpha debated something rather quickly in his mind, like he was choosing whether to kill the human or not, before climbing out of the window, leaving behind completely stunned faces.

Stiles tried not to let his fear and panic rise to the surface at the show of anger, though he yet out a girlish yelp when he connected with the sheets. he tried to cover it up with a cough and another small chuckle, but the moment had passed and the Alpha was gone.

No one seemed to know what to say so they sat in silence for what felt like forever. Shifting awkwardly in his newly acquired seat, Stiles scratched at the back of his neck. "Embarrassment is still an improvement over brooding and general creeperness. Even anger is better than that." He muttered, an out of place laugh ending his dialogue. The fear and panic slowly ebbed away, though with the knowing looks he was getting from everyone, even the humans, he knew that they could feel it, sense it.

"Stiles." A soft voice came from out of the pile, muffled by the excess of limbs and bodies. As if it was spoken, the pile grew farther and farther apart until you could distinguish which appendages belong to who. "Stiles." Peter spoke again, his face morphed into a worried mask.

"I'm fine." When he didn't even sound confident to himself, he cleared his throat to try again. "I pushed it too far. I should've stopped while I was ahead. It's fine. I was kinda expecting that reaction." Humans and wolves alike raised an eyebrow, hearing straight through his lie.

"That's how Laura and mother used to tease him." Cora spoke up, all eyes turning on her. "They always used to say things like that, but after the fire, he hasn't been able to handle things like that."

Stiles's eyes grew slightly in diameter. "I didn't know that. But I guess that explains his anger when I do tease him." The teen shrugged like it was no big deal, though guilt washed through him. He hated making people feel bad because of something he has said or done.

"He'll be back in an hour. Two tops." Peter calculated out loud, a small smile pulling up on his lips.

_Creeper_. The teen thought.

"Hey. I find that very offensive. I am nothing of the sort. I just prefer to...observe."

Heat flooded through the boy once again, turning him a bright red. he cleared his throat in an attempt to clear the tense atmosphere. "Um. While we wait for Sourwolf to come back, lets eat. I'm starving."

Fond smiles replaced looks of confusion, concern and pity as they all migrated toward the kitchen.

* * *

As Peter had said, Derek returned within the hour, though he refused to talk or even look at anyone. A scowl etched onto his face like cement. Like only a great force could remove it. He kept his arms crossed tightly against his chest, fingers digging into the muscle painfully. Whenever someone in the Pack attempted to talk to him, he would let out a deep growl, holding it in place until the unwanted person left. But the unpleasant circumstances only egged on Stiles.

The teen did everything in his power to do everything the wolf hated. He got close, encroaching on his personal space. He teased him, though nothing remotely similar to before. And he talked. He talked until he was sure that he had talked the ear off the man, though never once did Derek say anything. His growls had no effect on the teen. With each one, Stiles would make an offhanded comment on how that didn't affect him anymore and how underneath the cold exterior is a cuddly little puppy, each time earning himself another growl. Though it never once deterred him from getting the Alpha to talk.

"You know that I'm not going to leave you alone until you talk to me." The teen said for the fifteenth time. "And we both know I can talk and talk and talk for hours and hours without any break." The man replied with a growl, just as he had done for the past five hours.

"You're not helping yourself by doing this. I'll eventually piss you off enough that you'll at least threaten me with some sort of bodily harm. I mean that's what you do. You threaten. But you see, even if you somehow manage to figure out how your mouth works again and actually get out a threat, I will continue bugging you until you finally snap and stop being an ass." Another growl.

"Whatever man. Have it your way." The teen moved closer, almost to the point where their right sides were touching completely, and began humming songs under his breath. He started with 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, then moving to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, to The Macarena, to any other song the boy knew with an annoying beat.

Eventually, it started working. The effects happened gradually. A tick in the eyebrow, nostrils flaring, teeth grinding, fingers digging into his upper arm until they had finally broke skin, muscles tensed for attack. The Alpha's eyes bled red, the beginnings of fangs seen protruding the man's mouth. The teen, oblivious to his surroundings, continued on. That is until he found himself pressed up against the nearest wall, fangs hovering centimeters from his jugular. Claws dug their way into his throat, thin trails of blood sliding down his collarbone.

"Would you just fucking shut up for like five minutes? Is that so much to ask?" The wolf yelled, pushing closer into the human, nails digging deeper.

The boy gulped, swallowing over the lump that had formed in his throat. Pain and fear ran through the room, twisted in the air. Shaking hands grabbed at the werewolf's wrist, pulling weakly against it. "Stop. Please stop."

"I don't think you get it Stiles." He sneered his name. "You are nothing but a human. I could easily kill you right here, right now. Without Scott here to protect you, there is nothing stopping me." He added more force to the boy's neck, a steady stream pooling in the juncture of his shoulder and throat. "Think about that next time you think it would be a good idea to _piss _me off." The man threw him to the floor in a crumpled heap before escaping through the window once again.

Stiles grew wide eyed, mouth set slightly agape. The teen curled into a tight ball, gripping his knees to his chest as tightly as possible. He shook in fear and panic, muscles cramping under the extreme pressure. Tears bubbled in his eyes, though he rubbed furiously at his eyes until they were red and raw, but dry. Stiles felt a puddle of relief in his mind that he was alone in the house. His father got called in right after breakfast and the others had given up a few hours ago.

He couldn't say how long he stayed curled up, or when a small puddle had formed around his face, or when he was too tired to keep his muscles in their strength and was forced into a fetal position. It could have been days for all he knew, though when he heard his window open and a body slide in, he curled tighter around himself, hugging himself tighter as if he would shatter without the support. He muttered something unintelligent under his breath and into the fabric of his pillow. The teen was tempted to chuck it at the werewolf, but decided against it. At least this way he wouldn't have to look at the man.

A light pressure pressed down on his lower back and heat erupted from the spot. His brain screamed at him to move away, but his body shifted closer to the hand. He only just realized he had been shivering. He must have looked horrible. His face damp with tears, eyes red, raw and bloodshot. Muscles aching and shaking. A small trail of saliva connecting his face to the corner of his pillow.

"What do you want?" He said in a scratchy voice, evidence of his hours of crying.

"I just wanted to apologize." Came the soft reply.

Rage bubbled in the human, forcing him to shoot up and glare at the werewolf across from him. He rubbed at his face, clearing away all signs of liquid. "Get out." He said with conviction, pointing an accusing finger to the window.

The man sighed heavily, applying a little more pressure to the teen's back. "No." He said with his own brand of conviction, one that can only be possessed by an Alpha.

"Get the fuck out of my house Derek." He muttered lowly under his breath.

"No. I'm staying until you let me talk to you." He said in the same tone.

His anger grew until it could hardly be contained any further. Stiles reared off the bed, lunging at the wolf. He pounded on the other's chest with fists, hitting as hard as his human strength could muster, which wasn't a lot. The teen pushed him towards the window. "Get out!" He screamed. "Get out. I never want to see your stupidly attractive face ever again. Just get the fuck out of my house you stupid asshole. Go! I...I don't need you here. I don't want you here." The teen had fresh bubbles of tears in his eyes, small streams tracing the older trails.

"No dammit. I told you. I'm not leaving." The man pushed back, immediately pulling them back to the center of the room. "Just...Can we just talk?" He sounded unsure, insecure and pained.

Regret filled the teen. He had no right to blow up at the Alpha. Everything that he had said was true anyway. As realization finally hit, he backed away, knees meeting the edge of the bed. "Fine. Talk."

Derek rubbed a hand over his face, taking in a deep breath. "I just...Fuck. Okay. It just pissed me off."

"Because of Laura and your mom." The teen offered, voice bitter with self-loathing.

"Yeah. They just...They used to do the same thing when I was younger. It brought up...painful memories for me and I just left." The man chuckled darkly. "And then when I came back, you kept trying and trying and trying to piss me off. I knew what you were doing. Or trying to do. And it just made me angrier. I didn't mean to blow up at you like I did. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you like that, especially with everything that has happened to you recently. Just...I'm sorry." He rubbed at the back of his neck as if unsure of his words.

"Fine." Stiles took in a deep breath. "I still want you to leave. I need some time to myself." The boy sat himself on the edge of his bed, eyes trained on his feet.

"Okay. Stiles. Are you alright?"

"Do you want to truth or…?" He let his sentence trail off, letting it finish itself.

"I'll know if you lie, so I don't see the point in trying." Derek shrugged, pointing a stray finger to his ear.

"Exactly. I don't either." He said in a quiet voice, barely even a whisper.

The wolf furrowed his brows in confusion. "Stiles, are we still talking about lying?"

Stiles chuckled under his breath, a scowl taking over his expression. "What do you think?" He raised his eyes to meet the one's staring back at him. "Can you please just go?"

"No." He said, taking a sure step forward. He placed a hand on the teen's shoulder, attempting for a comforting gesture. The look of defeat on the boy's face quickly had him back tracking. "I'll leave after you tell me."

"Right away? Like right after I give you an answer?" Stiles verified.

"Yes. I'll leave right away. I promise you."

The teen contemplated for several seconds, judging the Alpha's tone, posture, face, searching it for any signs of a lie, though when he found none he shrugged. "Everything." A look of confusion passed over the werewolf's face. "I don't see the point in trying anymore. There is no point to anything anymore. But that just poses the question. Was there ever any point to anything?" A bitter smile stretched around his lips.

The man fell into silence, unable to respond, unwilling to understand. Stiles' state of appearance left a lot to be desired and Derek felt his heart break slightly at the sight. The teen looked like death had rolled over. His color was pasty instead of its usual paleness. His eyes, normally alight with curiosity and understanding, were dead, bags rimming them. His lips were chapped like he had continually licked at them. His clothes hung off his frame, showing that he had lost weight.

The wolf refused to accept that this was Stiles. The annoying, loyal, hyperactive teen with the desire of a hundred men to be of help. He refused to believe that this Stiles was even closely related to the one of his memories. But he was, and Derek knew that. He knew it and he hated it. He hated that this boy was pulled into his world. That he had to experience loss and pain and chaos and death. That he had been hurt so many times that there would be no way to ever count them all. That he had hurt the boy in front of him, threatened him, caused bodily harm to him. He hated that this innocent high school student was forced to kill his best friend by a dark fox spirit. He hated that this boy had changed so rapidly to fit in with the times, changed to the point that he was barely recognizable, to the point that he had lost all hope in himself. The Alpha refused to accept that Stiles was the boy in front of him.

"I'm sorry." Was all the man had to say, was the only thing he could say. There was nothing, no words, no actions, no way to show just how sorry he was. There was nothing to do or say. There never has been. He knew. He just knew that something like this would have happened if he had let Stiles in, if he had let Scott any closer. He forced himself to believe that he was protecting them, but in reality, he was afraid. Afraid that they would be hurt, killed, because of him. That they would be harmed just like his family. And he knew that he would never be able to protect them. He's never been able to protect anyone.

"Can you please just go?"

"Stiles...If you need to talk, or even just get something off your chest, I'm here, the Pack is here for you."

"I know."

Silence fell between them once again, though neither had anything to say anymore. Derek made his way to the window, keeping his eyes trained on the teen. Stiles fell back on the bed, ignoring the man's presence. There was nothing left to do, to say.

The Alpha slipped through the opening in the wall, disappearing in an instant. The teen immediately feeling the loss and loneliness, though he adamantly ignored them, choosing instead to curl back up, hugging his knees to his chest. A bitter smirk crossed over his face, a small chuckle escaping his throat.

_Hey Scotty. You know when I told you that we would be fine, that we would be okay. Maybe I lied, just a little. Everyone else, they will. They will go on to do great things. Lydia will become a scholar and win the Field's Metal or something. Jackson will probably become a lawyer or model or something like that. Isaac a vet and Allison...Well Allison can do whatever she wants. Danny will do whatever he wants as will the twins. Peter will find love and maybe stop being a creeper all the time. Cora will do whatever shewolfs do and she will be damn good at it. Your mom and my dad both do what they can for who they care for. And Derek. He'll find someone who won't betray him. Someone who can pull him back from his past. Someone that can love him how he deserves to be loved. He'll become the best damn Alpha in the history of the world and will finally be happy. And me. Well, I'll probably just kill someone again._

_I don't think that my future is looking too bright Scott. Knowing my life, I'll probably die before I'm twenty. Or get possessed and kill everyone. Or fall into the utter darkness that is my mind. I feel as if I am actually losing my mind Scott and I don't know what to do. Derek was right. I am nothing but a human that is easily expendable. But I guess I already knew that. I was just too blind and stupid to see it. Or maybe I just ignored it until it goes away, like I do everything._

_You know, I had this dream last night. You were there. Maybe not looking your best but you were there. Everyone was there actually. Sure, they were all dead, but you were all there. The nogitsune was there too. He told me something that I don't know if I should share, but I'm going to anyway. You're my best friend. Of course I'm going to tell you. He had told me that he will be back with a vengeance. He told me that by the time he is done, my hands will be coated in the blood of my family, my friends, my Pack. He told me that once he is done with me, my heart will be black and my soul shattered. He told me that there is no way I will be able to stop him. That he will kill everyone I love with my own hands._

_I don't know what to do Scott. Help me. Show me something to say that you can hear me. To say that there is still a small sliver of hope for me. That I'm not completely alone. One sign is all I ask. Just please give me something._

_I'm running on empty and I don't know how much long I'll be able to keep up this jog. Soon I'll just collapse under the pressure and I won't be able to get back up. I'm scared Scott. I don't know what is real anymore. I don't even know if I'm alive. What if this is just a sick nightmare made by the nogitsune to further lure me in the very depths of my mind so he can further control me. What if this is a dream and he is still here. What if I am still going to kill everyone. Kill you. I can't handle this anymore. I don't know what to think anymore. How much of my life is a lie. How much of it is a nightmare. I ask myself this a lot and still I can't find an answer. Do you have an answer? Can you tell me when this is going to end. When the darkness slowly taking over my mind, body and soul is just going to finish the job. I can't keep living like this. I can't. Tell me what to do Scott. Tell me. Show me. Anything._

A tearing sound pulled him from his mind, bringing his attention to the wall. There, encarved in the wood and plaster, through the paint and years of wear and tear, stood a single symbol. The backwards 5 that had followed around his Pack for weeks. _Self_.

Fear took over his mind. Stiles jerked his head from side to side, searching for the entity that had done this. Searching for anything that had done this. Though what he found was not what he expected. His walls were covered in them. And there, right in the center of all the chaos, was a triskelion dripping blood. The fluid ran down his walls in small streams, puddling at the floor boards.

The teen's eyes grew wide, allowing him to take in more of the gruesome scene. Fear and panic bubbled in his chest, cutting off his airways, cutting off his oxygen intake. An intense heat surrounded his chest and lungs, burning him from the inside out. Tears prickled in his eyes, blurring the scene in front of him. His hands moved of their own accord to his throat, gripping it tightly. The scent of death and blood flew through his mind, bouncing off anything and everything, making him gag. A cough wracked through his body, then another and another until he was rolling on the floor, clawing at his stomach and chest.

"-iles!" A voice penetrated his attack. Stiles attempted to hold onto that voice, using to anchor him to the real world, to bring him back from the attack. He held on like a vice, trying not to slip back under. "Stiles! I don't think he can hear us." He tried placing the voice that surrounded his mind, but it was too muddled by his pain.

"Do something!" Another voice penetrated his subconscious.

"There is nothing I can do if he doesn't want to wake up. We'll just have to wait. He'll be fine. Freaking out isn't helping anyone." The voice sounded like...Deaton? What is Deaton doing there?

"Do you know what happened?" Came another voice.

"Something traumatic must have happened for him to have this kind of reaction. We'll have to wait until he is prepared to wake up."

The teen heard a loud growl somewhere in the background, though dead or alive, conscious or asleep, he would know that growl anywhere. It was Derek. "Could it have been what we found in his room?"

"May-"

"Wait. I think he's waking up." Allison's voice ran through his head, helping to anchor him more to the real world.

"Stiles!" Said another voice. Lydia.

"Stiles. Can you hear us?" Isaac.

"Hello. Earth to Stiles." One of the twins.

"Everyone. Don't crowd him. He'll come out of it when he's ready." Peter.

Another growl. Derek.

The teen opened his eyes in little slits, the light penetrating the blackness that had encased his mind for what felt like forever. Pain blossomed at the forefront of his head, forcing his eyes closed once more. This process continued on until he could keep his eyes all the way open with minimal pain. Surrounding him, was the entire Pack. Isaac, Lydia and Allison were right in his face. Derek, Cora and Peter hung back, sitting on a bench. The twins and Jackson leaned against the far wall. And his father and Melissa were no where to be seen. Though the teen felt slightly grateful for that. He didn't want his father seeing him like this. Hell, he didn't want his father finding out at all.

"What happened?" They all seemed to say together. Some voices were morphed in concern and others in anger. Some were wrapped in confusion and others in panic.

"I don't know." He flinched slightly as more than one growl echoed through the room. "Alright. Alright. I don't know exactly what happened. I remember some of it, especially the pain. It was like nothing I have ever experienced. I remember the backwards 5s scratched into my walls and the triskelion. And the...Oh my God. The blood. Why am I covered in blood? Oh my God. Who's blood is this!?"

Stiles searched each person for wounds, though found nothing sufficient. Derek's shirt was covered in blood as was Peter's. The Alpha had a scratch right under his eye, the wound slowly healing. The others looked at him like he had grown another head. Or they just looked confused.

"Stiles. You're covered in your own blood." Cora enlightened him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

The teen immediately did a once over on his body. His eyes watered and his throat was scratchy. But other than that, his face was fine. A dull flame still burned through his chest but it was easily manageable. With every move or even slight twitch, pain sprung from his abdomen. A scratchy cloth, most likely gauze, was wrapped tightly around his torso, dotted in blood. His fingernails were coated in dried blood. The rest of his body seemed fine. "Did I try to like claw out my stomach or something?" He tried joking, adding a shaky chuckle for effect.

"It does look like you were trying to get something out, but I don't think it was your stomach." Deaton spoke up from somewhere he couldn't see. "There are some on your chest too, but they were shallow and didn't bleed much." The doctor moved into his line of sight, showing he, too, was covered in blood. "Stiles. What happened before you passed out?"

"I…" He almost immediately relived the memory. Pain exploded from every pore, agonizing heat ran through his veins with a burning intensity. Liquid covered his hands and arms, his cheeks and neck. "I...I don't remember."

"Stiles!" Derek yelled from his corner, arms crossed over his chest tightly.

"I really don-"

"Stiles!" More voices spoke up.

"Fine. Um. There was pain. Lots and lots of pain. And heat. I...I felt like I was on fire. I...I couldn't breath. It was like there was smoke in the room. Like I had inhaled too much smoke. That's it."

A worried expression crossed over the doctor's face, mimicking the one plastered on everyone else's face. "Describe this heat."

"Um. It felt like I was burning from the inside out. Like someone had set all my organs on fire. And it was everywhere. Like the room had already been engulfed, but there were no flames present. They were all inside of me. Why? Do you know what this is?"

All eyes turned towards the emissary. "I might. I'll need more data, but I have a pretty good idea." He seemed inclined to say more, but decided against it.

"Guys. Why do you keep giving me this look?" Ever since he woke up, they had been giving him these looks like he was either going to fall back asleep and never wake up or he was going to disappear.

"You don't remember what happened while you were on….fire?" Isaac spoke up.

The teen furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "No. Why? What happened? What did I do?"

"First, you attacked Derek. And he couldn't hold you back. It would have been hilarious if it hadn't been so terrifying. You were like an animal, attacking anything you could get your hands on. You would have attacked us if Derek hadn't sent us away. Then you disappeared. We couldn't find you anywhere. We looked in all the places you were most likely to go. We found you at the burnt out Hale house. But you weren't alone. Scott was with you. He was laying in your arms and you were crying. We didn't know what to do. You wouldn't let us take him from your arms. You would literally try and rip our throats out any time we got close. Eventually, we had to call Deaton and he knocked you out. Now you're here."

"You're hiding something. You aren't telling me everything." The teen accused, though after the words were out, he realized he had no way to prove this, no way he could even know this, but it was just a feeling. He could feel that they were keeping something from him.

They all looked away. All except Jackson. "You weren't alone with Scott. There was another body. And from the state it was in and the scent of it, it was just killed. You had her blood coating your hands when we found you. Along with one of the Argent's knives, also coated in her blood."

"I...I killed her?"

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys. Again sorry for the long update time. I've been trying to write with all my free time, but I didn't really have much of that this week. School is a killer. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of where this story has gone thus far.**

**Also, when Stiles was talking to Scott and he mentioned something the nogitsune had said to him. This was not mentioned in the last chapter, but it just didn't say anything. Thought I would have a plot twist for this chapter. You know, other than the dead girl and the carvings on the wall, and the fact that Stiles is kinda a murderer. Within the next few chapters, the details of what happened should be revealed. Also Scott's death will be explained. I hope you guys stick around for it.**

**I'll see you later my Lovelies. Goodbye~**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you to all who have decided to follow/favorite/review. It means a lot.**

**For all those confused, things will be explain through this chapter and the next. I would also like to bring up that when Stiles had killed the girl, it wasn't when he was talking to Scott, it was after he found all the carvings and the blood. He was in a sort of fugue state for a few hours and that is when everything had happened. Her identity will be revealed in this chapter as will the details of Scott's death. The next chapter, I think, the incident will be explained more and what Stiles did and why.**

**Hope everyone sticks around!**

* * *

Silence rang out through the room in a deafening boom. The Pack said nothing, though they didn't really have anything to say. All eyes were set downcast, even Jackson had his eyes averted. Each individual stood in their own forms of discomfort, some shifting from side to side, others tapping their feet on the floor or fingers on the table. Some attempted to say something, opening their mouths, but immediately closing them, resembling a fish out of water.

Stiles took their silence as admission. He hung his head in shame and guilt. His body shook on the table, hands clenching into fists, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. His eyes were blown wide, a stinging sensation behind them, though no tears formed.

"Who was she?" Stiles broke the silence first. He made his voice hard and emotionless, though still refused to look anyone in the eye.

"We don't know. We didn't know the scent, but she looked young. Probably someone from your school." Peter informed him, though his voice was low, almost a whisper. The teen barely caught the information.

He took a deep breath. "Can I see her?"

All eyes snapped up to meet his own, all pairs reflecting confusion and bewilderment. No one could find words. No one really knew what to say.

"Is it possible that I can see her?" He repeated.

"Why?" Deaton asked, eyes shining with questions.

"I want to know what happened. Maybe if I see her, I'll remember something. I want to see what I did to her. I want to know who she was at least." He let out a stuttering breath. "It's fine if you don't want to let the crazy killing Pack member to be anywhere near his latest kill. But I need to see her." He said bitterly, his voice acidic with self-hate.

"Stiles. You're not-" Isaac tried before being cut off.

"Don't even try and tell me I'm not some fucking crazy murderer. Scott should have been enough proof of that. I don't need any of you saying that none of this is my fucking fault when we all know it was. I don't need your fucking pity and I sure as Hell don't want it. So just shut the fuck up." His voice steadily rose until it was bordering on a screech. His breathing was heavy, heart beating quickly in his chest.

The occupants in the room backed away several steps, those who could anyway. No one said anything to him nor tried to deny his words. It hurt more than he thought it would. But that is what he is. He is a murderer. He has killed two people. One is an accident. Two is a coincidence. Three is a pattern. Who knows how many more will be harmed in his wake. Who knows when he will be stopped.

"I'm seeing her whether you like it or not so just get out of my way." His voice lowered considerably, taking on a dark undertone. He jumped up from the metal table, a twinge of pain blossoming in his abdomen, landing gracefully on his heels, well that was different, and made his way towards the door.

"How do you plan to get there?" Derek spoke up for the first time.

"Walking." He gave the wolf a _duh_ look.

"You're covered in blood." He pointed out.

The teen looked himself over again and found that, yes, he was indeed covered in large splotches of blood, turning his skin pink and his shirt almost black. "I'll manage."

"Stiles. You aren't going out covered in blood. First, that is stupid. Second, how do you think that will reflect on your father?" The other Pack members nodded in agreement. Traitors.

"What are you going to do _Derek_?" The teen sneered his name. "Force me to stay here. Order me around like one of your betas. You have no control over me."

"That wasn't what I was planning. I was going to offer to drive you."

"Oh." His glare fell, embarrassment taking over for a split second. "Fine then. That's fine. Are you still offering?"

"Just get in the car." He said in a final tone.

The teen turned on his heel, but not before seeing the pointed look Derek received from everyone and the returning nod he gave. Anger bubbled in the human's chest, but he let it go for the moment, making his way out of the clinic. Once through the doors, he could hear the telltale signs that the wolf was following behind him so he made a beeline the car.

"What was that back there? Are you supposed to be keeping an eye on me or something?" He asked in a hard voice once the wolf had joined him in the car.

"Something like that." Came the reply.

"I would tell you not to bother, but we both know you wouldn't listen to me."

"We're just trying to protect you."

"No. You're trying to protect everyone else from me." He said, turning a glare on the Alpha.

"That too. We're not even sure if you were the one who killed her. We're just trying to be cautious."

Confusion immediately took over his mind. "What do you mean you're not sure?"

"Well, your hands were covered in your own blood, but there was none on the knife or on her body. Your blood wasn't even near her. You also didn't have any dirt under your nails, so that makes us think that Scott's body was already there, as was hers."

"And why the fuck didn't you think this would have been important information before?" He asked incredulously, though the relief in his voice was obvious. There was a possibility he hadn't killed. That he wasn't some crazy psychopath.

"Well we were planning on telling you, but then Jackson had to go and run his big mouth. I decided not to say anything at the clinic because I wanted to gauge your reaction."

The teen scoffed, though a small smile made its way onto his features. "Glad to be part of your little experiment." He said sarcastically, though with no real heat behind them.

"It was more than an experiment. I was more trying to see if you were lying. About knowing anything I mean. I was trying, am still trying, to see if the nogitsune is having a lasting effect on you." Derek shrugged as if this was no big deal. This was a huge deal.

"And what are your conclusions?" Curiosity won out over any other emotion.

"I'm still not 100% sure, but I think that it may have. Considering what we had found in your room, the carvings and blood. I know that some outside force had made them, but the way you reacted makes me think that you're still afraid that the nogitsune isn't gone and it's effecting you."

The teen rolled his eyes. "No shit I'm scared. I'm terrified. You have no idea what it feels like to be possessed. To have your body be taken over with the intent to kill. I knew okay. I knew that the nogitsune planned to hurt, to kill everyone that I cared about. He had told me that himself. My mind and body were used for the intent to kill my friends and family. You honestly think that I would just bounce back from that? I'm terrified that he's going to come back and finish the job. I think I deserve to feel like that. So yeah. I freaked the fuck out when those carvings magically appeared in my bedroom. I thought he was fucking back. I thought it was going to happen all over again. I thought he was going to kill everyone. So I'm sorry if my reaction isn't what you expected, but if you really think that after everything that has happened that I am just going to be fine, then you are fucking stupid." Stiles took in a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before releasing it.

The wolf sent a glare towards the boy, but spoke anyway. "First off, I never said that I expected you to be fine. I expected your reaction to be worse than what it actually was. Your reaction to everything has been mild compared to what I thought it would be."

"What do you mean?"

Derek sighed in exasperation. "Everything, not just with the nogitsune, I mean everything that has happened, I honestly didn't expect you to be able to handle it. I figured you would have run away by now. I'm surprised you haven't. I wouldn't blame you if you did. No one in the Pack would. The only reason you got involved in the first place was because of Scott. After you had found out what had happened, when I told you that he had died, I was certain you would leave. Just pick up and leave the Pack like nothing has happened, like you have no ties to anyone. I thought you and your dad would get the Hell out of this town. Hell out of this state, maybe even country, but you stayed. You tried to be strong for everyone in the Pack even when I can see that you are absolutely miserable."

The teen averted his eyes to the window, a solitary tear running down his cheek. "Well if I can't be strong for everyone, who will be. The Pack is only as strong as its weakest link, which just so happens to be me."

"You aren't weak. I hope you know that. You're stronger than most of us. Sure you don't have the speed, strength, enhanced abilities, but you are strong. Strong willed. And you don't have to be strong all the time. I know that it's killing you to put on a happy face in front of everyone. You smell exactly as I did after the fire. Pain, guilt and self-loathing. I know how you are feeling right now. And if you weren't happy because of it, everyone in the Pack would understand too. We don't want you to be strong Stiles, we want you to be you. And if that means you break down and show what you really feel, then you need to. You don't deserve to have all of this on your shoulders. Let us take some of the burden."

Stiles chuckled darkly at the glass. "It's not that easy Derek. I'm the strong one. Even when I was little. I kept my dad going after my mother died. I kept Scott going after Peter and Allison and everything. I kept Isaac going after his nightmares and he would visit me in the middle of the night. I kept Erica and Boyd going when they needed someone to talk to. I kept Lydia and Jackson going during the Kanima incident. It's want I do. I keep things going. I'm the strong one. Everyone expects it from me. I keep them going when there is nothing to do it for them anymore. I'm the one who is always there to comfort or talk or protect or be a friend. I can't be weak. It's not in my nature. I don't know how to be weak. I take all the burden. You should know this by now. I take it all on at once. Hell, I even take everyone else's burdens. Because that is what I do. I don't know how to do anything else. It's who I am."

"Try. It's all I can ask of you. But please just try. We all want to help. We want to take away some of your burden. We want you to be weak so we can pick you up when you're down. You've seen us all when we thought there was no hope. You've seen us at our lowest. It's our turn. We only want to help. I know I can't expect you to change within a few hours. Probably not even in weeks or months, but try and let us in. We might even be able to help if you give us the chance."

"Fine. I can try. But don't expect anything from it." He only got a nod in reply, but it was enough. Silence surrounded them for several moments. Stiles let his mind run rampant for awhile, letting the information sink in, letting his own heart try and agree. He's so used to being alone. So used to dealing with things in his own way, he didn't even know if he could somehow start to open up. Yes, he would try, but maybe it would be better if he didn't. The others don't need his problems on top of their own. They already have to deal with him and if that isn't hard enough, they have to deal with the fact that he could possibly be a murderer. But Derek had said that his blood wasn't found anywhere near her body. It could just be a coincidence. But that poses the question that if he didn't kill her then...? "Derek."

"Yeah?"

"If I didn't kill her, who did?"

The man seemed unable to answer for a few moments. The most dreaded question in the entire town of Beacon Hills is _Who?_ Ever sense that night in the woods, it has always been _Who?_ Who was the Alpha? Who was the Kanima? Who is controlling the Kanima? Who is killing people? Who or what is controlling Stiles? Who? Who? Who? Once the first question was answer, the second worst came to view. _Why?_ Why is Peter doing this? Why is Jackson the Kanima? Why didn't the bite change Lydia? Why is the Alpha Pack here? Why is Jennifer killing people? Why is the nogitsune targeting Stiles? Why? Why? Why? Everything in the God forsaken town always is a question. Why can't anything just have a clear answer?

"I don't know." Derek seemed to have dreaded this question, though he probably expected it at some point in time. If not asked by him, it would have been someone else. Because everything starts with a question. "But when we found you, there was a scent there that I didn't recognize. Once I drop you off at the hospital, I plan to follow it."

"Okay." There wasn't much he could say. He could ask what the scent could be. Or even if he had ever smelt it before. Though he knew the answers to those questions already. Instead, he turned his attention back to the window, watching the trees and houses flash past like this hasn't all been a nightmare.

* * *

The hospital was bustling with life when they finally did arrive. He thanked the wolf for the ride and immediately made his way through the automatic doors. The morgue wasn't hard to find considering all the times he had to check out a body with Scott or Melissa, or sneak Scott in to catch a scent, or sneak one of them to see a body and catch their scent. All in all, he had been in the morgue more than was healthy. Though, on the bright side, no one stopped him.

Once inside, the teen realized he had no idea what he was looking for. The girl was just another body in the morgue. He had no idea what her name was but the cops probably did. She was most likely already ID-ed by the coroner or even by his own father. She couldn't have been just another Jane Doe. She had a name and a family and a future and friends and everything that a normal high school student should have. Maybe that is how he will find her.

He reviews each name tag, searching for ages and names and injuries and anything that might help him in finding his _victim_. He winces at the title, but that was what she was. Somehow she had managed to be his victim, even if he hadn't been the killer. Everyone has ended up being his victim. But he still continued on his journey to find her.

A few containment boxes later, he froze. The tag read _Scott McCall. Age:17. Cause of death: Multiple wounds/poisoning/disembowelment._ The teen's eyes grew wide, immediately filling to the brim with tears. His hands and body moved of their own accord, opening the container and sliding the body out. He lifted the sheet till it was past his waist, though Stiles refused to look yet. He couldn't. Not yet. When he had finally mentally prepared himself enough to take a peek, a gasp was pulled from his throat.

Scott's body was unnaturally pale, deathly looking. His throat was slashed from ear to ear, the edges rough and ragged as if nails had done the damage. His chest and biceps were covered in crisscross marks, some deeper than others, though each reflected the one on his throat, jagged. Fingernails, blunt fingernails had done this. A hole marked where his heart should have been, but was empty. His heart had been removed from his body, whether he was alive when it happened, Stiles couldn't say. A shudder ran down his spine as he looked lower. Scott's abdomen was ripped open, creating a gaping hole where skin and muscle had originally been. Even with Stiles's basic knowledge of human anatomy, he knew the teen was missing organs. It looked like both intestines were gone as well as the stomach, bladder, and others he couldn't name.

The teen gagged, stomach lurching at the sight. He couldn't bring himself to stare any longer, moving to cover the gruesome scene with the stark white sheet. For a moment, the teen thought about the lack of blood, but another shudder ran through him. Scott had probably already bled out by the time anyone had even found him. The human slid his best friend back into his containment vessel before continuing on his mission. About a minute later, he found the girl he was looking for. _Name: Lorraine Wilson. Age: 14. Cause of Death: multiple stab wounds._

Lorraine Wilson. He knew her. She was a classmate in his math class. He had even talked to her a few times. She was a nice girl, very social. And she was smart. Like unbelievably smart. She was always surrounded by at least five other people. She didn't deserve this.

On impulse, he pulled the body out of it's cavern and removed the sheet. Her throat, too, was slit from ear to ear, but the cut was clean and practiced, showing it was indeed from a knife. Over her heart laid several, almost a dozen, stab wounds. More were scattered over her shoulder and abdomen. But it was obvious, whoever did this really wanted this girl dead. He quickly replaced the body to where it belonged. Stiles took one last fleeting look at the vessel containing Scott and hurried out of the room, colliding with one of the nurses.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbled out, looking sheepishly at the floor.

"Stiles?"

He knew that voice. It sent a pang of guilt and pain through him. He looked up bewildered at the woman carrying the voice. "Hello Ms. McCall. Sorry for running into you like that." He scratched at the back of his head, a small smile making its way onto his face.

"No big deal. What were you doing in there?" She pointed a shaky finger at the door leading to the morgue, a pained look etching its way into her eyes. Another wave of guilt washed through the teen. He was the cause of this. This pain and hurt and loss.

"I was...looking for someone." He muttered under his breath.

"Was it Scott?" Her voice broke on her son's name, a tear immediately sliding down her cheek. She quickly averted her eyes, choosing to stare at the floor like ti was the most interesting thing in the entire world.

"No. Lorraine. I was there at the scene. I wanted to see her." This seemed to appease Melissa's curiosity, that was barely even there to begin with. "I'm sorry."

There was no need to elaborate on what he meant, he knew that she knew. He also knew that she knew what had happened to her only child. "If you want to slap me or hit me or do something like that, I understand."

She almost immediately snapped her head up, meeting his eyes with her own, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Why would I ever want to do that?!" She said in a hurried voice, raising it an octave.

"Well, this is my fault after all. I'm the one who did this." He shrugged his shoulders as if that should have been obvious, which it kinda should have been. This all has been his fault. If it weren't for him and his stupidity, Scott wouldn't be laying in a morgue rotting away.

"The nogitsune took away my son. Not you." She said in defiance, her tone hard.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" He shouted, but quickly lowered his voice when he received multiple glares from patients and doctors. "This has all been my fault. If it weren't for me, Scott wouldn't be dead. It seems as though I am the only one capable of actually understanding that. Everyone, you and the Pack, has told me that this wasn't my fucking fault, that this had all been the nogitsune. But you're wrong. All of you are wrong. All of this, whether you choose to believe it or not, is all my fault. I don't want anyone's pity or understanding. I want people to be mad, pissed even. I want them to blame me for the things that I have done, for the crimes that I have committed. I did this. No one else. All of you are placing the blame on the nogitsune because you can't accept the fact that little ol' Stiles killed his best friend. You can't accept the fact that I did this. Yes the nogitsune had the control, but I did this. Accept it." He let out a shaky breath, tears pricking in his eyes at the truth in his words.

Melissa had the same reaction, tears flowing steadily from her eyes. "Are you telling me to accept that you killed Scott? Because I can't do that. You're like a son to me Stiles."

"Well your son is dead because of me so maybe you should question who you place your trust in."

She winced physically, shrinking back from the teen. "I get that you blame yourself for this, but it wasn't your fault. No one blames you because they all know that you had nothing to do with what happened, not because they can't accept that you did it. They know the truth. You are just riddled with guilt. So much so that you are blaming yourself."

"I think you have me wrong Melissa. I blame myself because I didn't fight hard enough against the nogitsune. I didn't fight against him hard enough so he took over my mind and body. My will wasn't strong enough the repel him. Scott is dead because I didn't have the strength or will to fight. So yes, maybe the nogitsune is the one that performed the actually killing, but it was me who set his fate in stone, all because I couldn't fight." A shiver ran down his spine as the truth washed through him once again.

"I don't blame you. No one blames you." She said in a soft voice, comforting almost. It made him slightly nauseated. She was _comforting_ him. This is...This is backwards. He should be the one comforting her, not the other way around.

"You will. I'm just waiting for everyone to stop blinding themselves from the truth." He spun on his heel, already in motion before she could gather her bearings. He made his way form the hospital almost in a run, though once outside, he broke into a sprint, fleeing the scene in a matter of seconds.

* * *

He ran for miles. He ran until he was only surrounded by trees. He ran until he could no longer hear the world outside, only the small scampers of little woodland creatures and the wind brushing through the trees. He ran until he could no longer run. Sweat drenched his shirt and hair, matting them to his body. Goosebumps flashed over his skin despite the blood rushing through his veins. His jog fell into a steady walk, but he continued on, refusing to look back. He continued on until he reached his destination. The old Hale house.

It seemed that he always found himself there, even in his dreams when he's running from himself, he still manages to find himself here like this was his safe haven. He strode up the walk as if he owned the place and opened the door. The hinges creaked with each movement, echoing through the empty house eerily. He took a step inside, then another and another, each floorboard groaning under the weight. Even with his human senses, he could smell the blood, see the discoloration in random splotches. He could almost feel what had transpired here. He could hear her screams of pain and fear, the emotions running through his like his own. He could hear her footsteps echoing through the halls as she ran from her attacker. It felt so real, the teen found himself searching the empty space for the girl. He could feel the pain as the edge of the knife sliced through skin and muscle and tendons and veins. A hand unconsciously found his shoulder, feeling the pain erupt there. His face morphed in agony, hands moving to cover his heart. Each wound bringing a fresh wave of fear and pain. Once again, his hands moved down to grip at his abdomen, clutching at the bandages wrapped there, feeling the final jabs of metal. He could feel the chill of blood coating his shirt and skin, running down his arm and dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His vision went black, body collapsing to the floor.

* * *

He awoke to a voice calling out his name, each time it grew more and more frantic. The teen felt a steady pressure on his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Stiles. Stiles!"

He sat up with a start, eyes growing wide. His hands moved to his chest, covering his heart, but felt no liquid, no pain. He pulled his hand back, finding it dry and pale. He looked around the room, searching for his blood, the knife, anything to prove what he had felt. He was instead met with frenzied hazel eyes. "I'm okay." His voice cracked, causing him to wince.

"What happened?" The wolf demanded, still searching for some kind of wound.

"I don't exactly know myself. I was kind of hoping you could tell me." Even to his own ears, he could hear the panic flood through his tone.

"Just tell me what you remember."

"Well I came here after running into Melissa at the hospital." He looked at the werewolf for some kind of sign that he knew what he was talking about.

The man nodded. "She called me and told me about your guys' conversation. We'll talk about it later. Please continue."

"I ran away after talking to her and ended up here. I was standing right here and I could literally smell Lorraine's pain. And her fear. I could taste it on my tongue like I had been there or something. Then I heard her screams and footsteps running until they stopped. I felt her pain with each stab. I could actually feel the slice of knife as it cut through my skin and muscle. Each an every wound, I felt it all. I felt the blood. It all felt so real. Like I was her getting attacked instead. It was...It was terrifying. It felt as if I was actually living through it."

"Did you see who did it?"

The teen thought back, wincing at the memory. "No. All I remember is the pain."

The wolf growled lowly under his breath, mumbling out a curse. He shifted his nose upward, taking in a deep breath. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, though his eyes bled red.

"What's wrong?" Stiles muttered, instantly on alert.

"It's the same scent that was at your house and here earlier. The one I didn't recognize."

"Oh." was the only thing the teen could say before a scent assailed his senses all at once, stronger than anything he has ever smelt before. His nose wrinkled at the bitter sweetness of it, eyes watering at its strength. Though he felt a direct pull toward it, moving him without his consent. He followed it, like one would a trail, through the door and out of the house and into the woods. He was encased in darkness, the woods around him morbidly quiet. All was silent except the footfalls echoing from behind him and his own two feet crunching through the leaves.

He followed his trail for what felt like hours, sluggishly walking, letting his nose lead the way. He had no idea how far he had gone, could have been feet, yards or even miles, but he eventually broke through the trees and came upon a clearing. Across the field he could see more trees. The scent ended here, cutting off instantaneously. HE searched around, sticking his nose into the air, but found no traces of it.

A strangled cry came from behind him. Stiles turned to see Derek slumping to the ground in a mass of muscle. The teen instantly was on alert, searching the clearing for any signs of danger. His muscles tensed in anticipation, pupils blown wide with adrenaline. A soft chuckle came from the fringe of trees on his left and he ran straight for it, searching through the foliage for the source of the giggle. Another broke out on the other side of, then another and another, all coming from different angles, twisting him around in a circle until he could no longer stand still. He shifted forward, his toe catching an opening on a root. Though, his face never met the ground. Something warm had caught his around the waist, pulling and keeping him upright until he could see straight. He turned to thank the wolf, who he had figured was the one to save him from the embarrassing fall, but he was met with darkness.

Stiles took an unsteady step back into the clearing and found it still devoid of any and all people other than himself and the crumpled mass of Derek. His senses grew sharper with the presented danger, a sort of heat bubbling deep within his chest. He jerked his head this way and that, searching and searching and finding nothing of any consequence. A chill ran down his spine, settling in the small of his back, spreading goosebumps in it's wake. His bloods pumped through his veins, throbbing beneath his skin. His heart thrummed in his chest, ringing through his ears.

"So you are one?" A girlish voice came from behind him. "I should have known it was you."

He jerked around to face the voice, but found nothing. Annoyance spread through his mind, but the need to defend and protect quickly outweighed it. He huffed out a breath and turned back to the clearing. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ray." Came the reply, followed by a giggle. Her voice was definitely girlish, bordering on childish.

"I'm Stiles. What do you mean I am the one?"

Another giggle sounded through the forest, bouncing off the trees. "You are like me. But not like me in a sense."

"Well then, what are you?"

Another giggle. "I am what you would call a Summoner." The voice grew closer, louder.

"What is a Summoner?" Confusion quickly overcame the danger, making him furrow his eyebrows.

"He really hasn't told you anything yet, has he?" Her voice grew strained, like she was suppressing anger or panic, but continued to grow closer.

"Who is he?"

"Allan. You know him better by Deaton."

His confusion grew tenfold. "What does Dr. Deaton have anything to do with this Summoner stuff?"

"Ask him and find out." The voice said right next to his ear.

Stiles jumped a good two feet in the air, a small yelp making it's way out of his throat. He turned to the 'Ray', but again found nothing. "What should I ask him?"

"You'll know when the time comes." Her voice retreated back into the brush and trees, slowly growing quieter. "I'm sorry Stiles. I must go, but we shall meet again. I'll make sure of that." Another giggle echoed through the trees until it finally faded, leaving him alone once again.

He rushed over to the collapsed wolf, shaking his shoulders roughly. "Derek. Wake up. Derek!"

The werewolf groaned, rolling onto his back. When his eyes opened, they immediately bled red, fangs protruding from his lips. "Stiles. Where is it?"

"She had to leave." He shrugged like it was no big deal.

"She? What happened?" Confusion swept over his now human features. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together.

"I'll explain later. Right now, I need you to get me to Deaton's as fast as you can." He didn't wait for a response, already making his way back toward the Hale house.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! I really love this chapter. I think this is the most action we have seen in awhile. I hope you guys like it too.**

**I want to clear a couple things up. When Stiles is in the Hale house and he starts to feel all the pain that Lorraine went through, he isn't dreaming nor hallucinating. It's more like he is resonating with what had happened there. He was trying to remember also, which played a role in what happened. Also Ray is one of my OC's and you will see her a lot throughout the story. You will also find out what a Summoner is in the next chapter.**

**I hope you guys stick around for it. There will definitely be some more action later on and maybe some hintings at Sterek. **

**Well, that is all for tonight. Good night my Lovelies~**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** **Hey guys. I'm hoping that this chapter will explain anything that is still confusing you, but if you have any questions/comments/concerns/ideas, PM me or leave them in a review. Your opinions matter so have a voice.**

**Here you go then. Enjoy~**

* * *

"Deaton?!" The teen yelled out immediately after stepping foot into the clinic. His impatience was building along with his curiosity. He felt jittery, like bouncing here and there and everywhere. It was like a sort of energy buzzing just beneath his skin. It alarmed him, like nothing had ever worried him before. But it also filled him with a sense of warmth and belonging, heating his mind, heart and soul. It buzzed through his veins like a constant static, setting his nerves on edge, but soothing his mind at the same time. Never once had he felt as calm and focused as he does now, like an icy clarity had washed through his mind and body, clearing it of all its pent up energy.

The teen could tell by the look on the wolf's face that he was not only on edge about the situation, but he was worried about it, like something terrible is about to happen. Again. Derek kept rubbing at the back of his head, where the teen guessed he had been hit by Ray. The man continually looked over his shoulder, like someone or something was watching them from afar, waiting until the perfect moment to strike. Stiles didn't exactly blame him. He had been rendered useless and unconscious, like he was a mere human, by something he had no information on. The teen could see how that would not sit well with the Alpha.

The vet rounded the corner, holding up a long needle, a clear fluid dripping down its length. "How can I help you?"

"I...We need to talk to you, so it would be best if you clear your schedule for the time being." Derek ordered in a hard voice, his Alpha voice.

"Can I ask what this is referring to?"

Both men looked expectantly at the teenager who had finally succumb to his urges and was bouncing from leg to leg. The sudden attention made him stop mid bounce, face morphing into surprise. He didn't know what he was surprised about. Derek knew nothing on what had happened in the woods and Deaton followed his gaze. The teen gulped in sudden nervousness, looking between the two rapidly.

As if sensing his growing discomfort, Derek spoke again. "Something happened in the woods. He refuses to tell me any of the details."

The emissary nodded as if knowing exactly what he was talking about, though knowing Deaton, he did. He waved the two back, keeping his eyes steady with Stiles's as if looking for something in particular.

A large dog laid on its side on the operating table, whimpering softly, his pain even obvious to Stiles. Derek's face scrunched up like he had smelt something bad.

"Just give me a moment and you'll have me all to yourself." The vet moved to the dog's side, inserting the tip of the needle into its flank. The dog yelped in pain, but its noises quickly died down as the dog grew unconscious.

"Derek. Would you mind helping me get him back in his cage?"

The man seemed unsure at first, but as Deaton moved farther into the room toward the kennel, he followed quickly behind, carrying the large lump of mass.

Once all was taken care of and the dog was back in its kennel, Derek made his way back toward the other room, though when he felt a hand grip his bicep he stopped, raising an eyebrow.

"What is happening to Stiles can both be an omen and a miracle. We won't know until...after this conversation. But if things get to be dangerous, you need to leave."

The wolf smirked, bringing his clawed hands up to his face, letting his eyes blink red. "I think I can take care of myself."

"Not with this. Not with them. You can't handle them. I'm only warning you. If things get bad, you should run."

"What exactly are _they_?" He asked quizzically, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I guess we're about to find out." The vet dodged past him, entering the other room with a small smile on his face, as if none of that had transpired.

"What is a Summoner?" The teen's voice displayed his obvious annoyance and a little anger. He had his arms crossed over his chest, leg hopping up and down. Energy still buzzed through his skin, setting it alight in some places, others just a dull ache. The sensation wasn't at all painful, more like a barely there electricity running through his veins, making his body go on high alert.

The emissary's eyes grew slightly, though he quickly recomposed himself. "Straight and to the point I see. I didn't realize you knew so much already."

"Yeah. Well I had a little help." He shot a glare at the vet, jaw setting into a grind.

The wolf stood by, off to the side, simply watching. His face conveyed his obvious confusion. Not only did he not know anything about what had transpired in the woods, the teen's reaction didn't really make sense. Never once has Stiles ever resorted to anger so soon, without the knowledge to justify it. And never once has he seen the boy look so pissed. Stiles looked ready to kill someone. Or many someones.

He took one step closer to the humans, then another and another until he stood directly to the side of the teen. Whether to hold him back if he tried to attack or to get out of the way of his warpath, the wolf didn't know.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Deaton spoke in a guarded voice, though he tried to keep it friendly. It didn't work.

"Actually. Why don't you just answer my question?" His hands clenched around his biceps painfully, blunt fingernails pressing crescents into the skin.

The emissary sighed out a heavy breath. "A Summoner can be a lot of things. They are...people who can control the elements. Earth, wind, water, fire. But they can also have other types of...powers. They can be telepathic. They can read the thoughts of anyone close to them. Some can see into the future, others into the past. Some can see and even feel if something bad had happened in a certain area. But most can only control their given element, maybe one other thing, though there have been a few cases when all applied. Summoners are a dangerous people."

The teen paled slightly, though he held his glare steady, intensifying it as best he could. "What makes them dangerous?"

"Exactly what makes a werewolf dangerous. Summoners are extremely subjective to their emotions. One simple thing can set them off, no matter how small. In most cases, a Summoner is more powerful than any creature that I and my ancestors have ever encountered. But there are always those few cases where the genes were mixed up and the Summoner is incredibly weak, though that doesn't happen very often."

"How are they more powerful?" He pressed out between clenched teeth. His nails dug deeper, muscles tensing as if in attack mode.

"Haven't you been listening? They can do much more than any known creature can. Once a Summoner can control their power, it's like letting a rabid dog out of its cage. Nothing is expected, but someone always gets hurt in the end. One simple thing will set them off and until that feeling is repressed, they will act on it."

With this newly found information, the teen only seemed to grow angrier, teeth grinding together with an immense pressure. His face and body flushed, painting his skin a light pink. His eyes were alight with anger, staying set in a glare. His muscles tensed and contracted against his bones, veins pumping him with adrenaline. The dull buzzing from before intensified, now turning into a constant electric pulse drowning his system. "And how do you control it?"

"Well considering I am not one and have only encountered a few, I cannot say for sure. But, the best way to control it is to be able to control your emotions. Though for a Summoner, it is much harder than for anything else because they work more on impulse and instinct than reasoning. Think about a newly made werewolf on their first full moon. A Summoner is a lot like that, but increased by about a ten-fold, and they feel this way all the time. A werewolf is easy to control after about a couple months because they have not only gotten used to their urges, but they have learned how to keep them suppressed. With a Summoner, it takes years, if not decades to master control and most don't have the ability to control it fully."

The boy slowly digested this information, his irrational anger growing with each word that passed the vet's mouth. "Tell me everything else you know."

"Well, a Summoner does not hunt in a pack as a werewolf does. They can barely be around anyone in general, without anyone getting hurt that is. This is due to the irrationality and lack of impulse control. A Summoner doesn't work well with other Summoners either. There is too much conflict in power and the greed to gain more power. I'm not exactly sure how a Summoner gains more power, but I would think it's a lot like how a werewolf does. By killing one of their own. It is too dangerous for humans to associate themselves with a Summoner. Most of the time even a werewolf can't handle it. Nothing really can. Like I said before. They are incredibly dangerous."

The teen took an unconscious step forward, eyes glinting orange in the light. "Anything else?"

"Summoners, just like any kind of creature, can be both good and bad, but most kill and maim and slaughter. They don't choose to do it. They simply lack impulse control. Those who have managed to control their powers can choose whatever way they want to go." He gave Derek a look, both a warning and a caution. "I'm guessing you met Ray in the woods earlier."

Surprise took over the teen's face, replacing the anger for no more than a millisecond. "What do you know about her?"

"She can control wind and air. And that's all I believe she can do. But she has great power, one of the most powerful I have seen in my lifetime. Wind and air is the easiest elements to control. Then earth. Then water. Then fire. I have met a couple earth Summoners and only one water. Fire Summoners are as rare as rare gets, and those who can control would make for a formidable foe."

"Tell me more about her." Stiles's patience was quickly running thin.

"I met her back when Talia was still alive, but this was before even Laura was born. She was just passing through. The Pack found no reason to fear her, but I told them to be cautious anyway. Summoners don't very well like other supernatural creatures. She didn't do anything while she was here and she likes to visit every once and a while."

"Is she good?" Derek spoke for the first time, his voice unsteady and unsure. His eyes stayed glued on the human in front of him, gauging reactions and keeping tabs.

"From what I have encountered of her, yes. She hasn't hurt anyone in this town and from what I know, not anywhere else either. She seems to have complete control over her powers. I trust her enough not to hurt any of you. And she just might be able to help." He glanced down to the teen in front of him.

That look broke through the teen's floodgates, a sudden rage filling him. He took a steady step forward, almost like he was circling prey, only without the circling. His eyes glowed a bright orange, face paling significantly. Air blew through the room, pushing and pulling at his clothes from all angles, making his hair whip around him. The buzzing grew more and more prominent, quickly becoming something he could taste in the air. Energy pulsated around him, making his vision wavy and unfocused, though his mind has never felt clearer. He took another step, cornering the could smell his fear and panic, though the emissary kept a straight face. This only seemed to piss the teen off more.

He felt the hand reach out from behind him before it made contact with his skin. He directed his attention towards it for no more than a second. He could no longer feel it reaching towards him. A whimper of pain brought some senses back to his mind, though it was quickly overrun with rage once again. Another step and he could almost touch the vet. The teen heard a distant voice calling to him, calling his name. He froze mid-stride, instantly recognizing it. The voice got louder at a snail's speed, but it eventually got there. He could now make out individual words, the emotion behind them. He felt the hand make its way toward him once again, though this time he didn't stop it.

A steady pressure landed on his shoulder, heat coiling around the space. Then another hand met his other shoulder, pressing down with a light pressure, as if trying to hold him there.

"Stiles. Calm down. Everything is alright. Everything is okay." The voice mumbled in his ear over and over again, like a record on repeat.

The rest of the fog dispersed into thin air, leaving his senses heightened, like a veil being removed. His mind was clearer than it had ever been. He could see things he never could before, like the specks in the woods, or the dust particles floating in the air. He could smell things. Medical supplies, sickness, the distinct smell of animal food. But there was something else. he could smell the emotions permeating through the room. Fear, admiration, curiosity, concern all mixed into one. He could hear the cars passing by on the street, the buzzing in the lights overhead, the breathing of the animals on the other side of the building. He could taste the lasting electricity in the air, he could smell blood and smoke, also the distinct smell of burnt….something.

"Holy shit. This is awesome." The teen breathed out, looking down at his skin.

"What? What is awesome?" The wolf looked to the vet for help.

"I forgot to mention this. A Summoner has the same heightened abilities as a werewolf." The emissary took a step forward, then another, curiosity and wonder covering his face. He looked in between the boy and the man several times, like he was unsure which was more wonderful.

"What?" They both said in unison.

"He anchored you. He anchored you from losing control."

"Anchor? Like with werewolves?" Stiles asked.

"Something like that."

"How does that even work?" Derek spoke up, frustration and curiosity written all over his face.

"You two have some sort of connection. Some sort of bond. You pulled him from his anger. You kept him from attacking me. I didn't even know this was possible. And with a fire type no less." His voice rose in volume, looking between the two once again.

"What kind of bond?" Stiles asked, even though they both thought it.

"I'm not entirely sure. But it would have to be strong enough to suppress your powers. Especially considering…"

"Considering what?" Derek didn't like the sound of that.

"Well he is a fire type, the most powerful element to be controlled. Also, see how he's bouncing around and can't seem to sit still. That doesn't have to do with the ADHD. If I had any guess, he is buzzing with energy. And with how much he's bouncing around, I'd say it's a lot. Which can only mean that he is powerful. Incredibly so."

"Does that mean it will be harder or easier for him to be able to control it?"

"Again. I'm not sure. It depends on how he reacts, if he as a person can handle it, and how strong the bond is. All that can say for sure is time. We'll have to wait."

"How long?"

"Like I said. It all depends."

"Can both of you please stop talking about me like I'm not here?" The teen huffed in annoyance, anger bubbling under his skin. Energy buzzed just under the surface, quickly building.

As is sensing it, Derek placed a hand on the human's shoulder, squeezing gently. A cool calm washed through Stiles, making him sigh and forcing his eyes closed. He hummed softly in his throat, leaning unconsciously into the hand. As if realizing what he was doing, he jerked away from the hand, red flooding his cheeks and neck, flushing him crimson.

"I think this is going to be harder than we thought." Deaton muttered under his breath.

"What do you mean?" They asked simultaneously.

"Well, first off, you get angry at small things, but I was expecting that. What I wasn't expecting was how bad it would be. The smallest things trigger you and that can be bad. Also, I didn't realize how strong the bond was. Notice how quickly he calmed you. It was like a natural response. And the way you reacted. Like he was the only thing keeping you alive."

The teen's face grew hotter at the man's words. "Shut up!"

"I'm just saying that it's interesting. The bond runs deeper than even I could have imagined. I wonder why though."

Stiles mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath. A hand came to rest on his shoulder once more, instantly calming him. His blush slowly receded, leaving behind pale skin. The buzzing calmed slowly as well, soon becoming a barely there tingle. The constant energy was repressed, becoming just a slight annoyance. At least he didn't feel the need to jump and hop and skip in place anymore. Within just a couple minutes, Stiles felt like a normal human being again, well as normal as he could be considering the world he lives in.

Deaton watched them with a quizzical look, questions in his eyes. He looked curious and full of wonder and excitement and concern, like he had been waiting for something like this all his life, though knowing him, he probably has been. He was practically hopping in place with the extent of his intense happiness, like a child getting the thing he wanted most on Christmas morning.

"So, how does this bond work?" Stiles asked awkwardly, leaning back into the hand that held him.

"I'm not quite sure. I'll have to talk to others who have encountered something like this."

"How long do you think that will take?" Derek questioned, a mysterious tone in his voice. It almost sounded….hopeful.

"Depends on how fast I can find someone with useful information. I'm sure this isn't the first time this has happened. So we'll just have to wait and see. I'll call you when something comes up. But I would recommend that you two stay close to each other, just in case something happens. Like Stiles gets angry. I would also keep the Pack away for the time being, including his father. Just to be on the safe side. We've both seen what he can do when he's not in control. And you felt it. This is just a precaution."

Stiles turned on the man through the end, turning to face the wolf. "What does he mean you felt it?"

The werewolf looked away from the teen, but held his hand up anyway. From fingertips to elbow, the skin was marred by burns, scarring the flesh. It was red and slightly swollen, wrinkling from the heat. The teen gasped in horror, using one hand to cover his mouth and the other to stroke along the burnt skin. "I'm sorry. I...Fuck. I'm sorry."

"You didn't mean to. It's not a big deal." Derek shrugged, just a small lift in the shoulders, but his eyes reflected something else.

"No. It is a big deal. Don't just play it off like nothing like you always do. Like everyone continues to do. Place blame where blame is needed. Blame me okay? Blame me for what I've done okay? I'm tired of everyone saying that nothing is my fault when it is! Just….Jesus Christ. Just stop trying to play everything off as nothing." Anger bubbled just behind the surface, though never made itself known. Derek's hand subconsciously squeezed his shoulder again, quickly smothering the flame before it began.

"What do you want me to say Stiles? That everything that you did while you were _possessed_ was all your fault. That Scott's death and Lorraine's death and all the others were all your fault. That you were the one to kill them. Do you want me to say that you are the reason that Scott isn't here anymore? Do you want me to say that everything that has happened thus far has all been your fault and that everyone should blame you because you are a horrible person that doesn't deserve the people around him? News flash, I'm never going to tell you that because none of it is true. Things have happened, yes, I agree with that. But just because something bad happened doesn't mean that it is your fault. Jesus. All that has happened has happened for a reason. You did nothing to cause them."

He jerked out of the others hold, backing away several steps. "So you're saying that your family burning to death happened for a reason?"

Pain flashed through his eyes before he covered it. "Yes. Actually that is what I'm saying. It was a horrible thing that happened and for many years I thought that it would never get better, but if that had not happened, I would have you and the Pack. Yes, you guys can never replace the family I had, but you are a part of it just as much as everyone else. If they hadn't died that night, I wouldn't have you."

A blush slowly crept up his neck, painting his cheeks and ears red. "And what is that even supposed to mean?" He asked the floor, refusing to look at the wolf.

"It means exactly what it says. If they hadn't died that night, I wouldn't have you." The man took a step forward, reaching out with a steady hand that the teen had no choice but to lean into.

"That doesn't answer my question. There is always a hidden meaning behind everything." He said in a small voice.

"Stiles. I have told you once and I will tell you again. You are a part of my Pack, of my family. I care about you, no matter how you reject that. I know I was an asshole in the past, but I am trying to change. It may take awhile, but I am trying."

"Fine. Whatever." The teen mumbled out, his blush obviously reddening.

A gruff voice cleared their throat from behind them, breaking apart their little moment. "As entertaining as this is, I do have things to get to. I'm a busy man after all. So if that is all for the day, I must get back to work."

A light pink touched on the wolf's ears, but he nodded anyway, dragging the teen along with him. "Call when you have more information."

"You have my word. And remember what I said about staying with each other and away from everyone else." He called after them, the curiosity still evident in his voice.

* * *

The drive back to wherever they were going, as Derek refused to tell him where, was slightly awkward. The teen was bouncing in place again, energy pulsating through him. "Where are we going?" He asked for the thousandth time.

"You'll see." Was the response. After about the second time the teen asked, Derek would always respond with the same reply.

The boy sighed out his impatience, focusing on keeping his leg from bouncing up and down in annoyance. Stiles felt as if he were about to explode when they finally stopped. He hopped in his seat like a hyperactive child. He really needed to get out of the car. He bounded out of the door, expecting the Sheriff to greet him home or something of the sort, though he immediately stopped. He looked around the almost empty lot, then to the wolf who just shrugged. The sign above them read _**Grantie's Hotel for the Modern Traveller**_ and below that read _**VACANCY**_. The teen stood open mouthed staring between the hotel and the man that had brought him there. "You've got to be kidding me."

He shrugged again. "Deaton said that we need to stay together and stay away from the others. So I figured why not." The wolf smirk slightly, just a small uptick in his lips, but it counted.

Stiles huffed in annoyance. All he wanted to do was sleep. "Fine. Just hurry up. I'm tired." He shuffled towards the office in front where an older woman stood, rummaging through papers.

"Hello Ma'am." Derek spoke from behind him, forcing her to look up through thin glasses. "We would like to rent a room for a couple nights."

He looked the both of us up and down, then smiled, handing Derek a key that read **Rm 59**. The wolf paid for three nights, unsure if they were staying longer, but decided to stay on the safe side.

Once they had settled in for the night, the force of what happened hit the teen. Hard. He fell on his bed in a huff, hugging the flat pillow to his chest. It smelt like dust and laundry detergent. It wasn't exactly pleasant but the teen was too tired and shocked to move. He hugged in tighter, burying his face into it.

He was some kind of magical thing that could easily kill someone. He couldn't be trusted around his Pack or Derek. Apparently him and Derek have some sort of bond that link them together so he won't kill anyone. It's like the nogitsune all over again except he had magical elemental control and he has function over his body, so no one can blame the nogitsune for anything anymore. He is to blame for everything that happens from here on out.

He didn't notice the tears that were steadily streaming down his cheeks until a hot hand pressed against his lower back. "What's wrong?" Derek's voice broke through his mental escapade.

"I'm going to kill someone Derek. And I'll have no one to blame but myself. I could have killed you or Deaton today. I could easily do it right now. I...I don't want this to be the way that I have to live. I don't want to fear that I am going to hurt someone I care about every second of my life. I don't want this Summoner shit. I just want to be a normal fucking teenage. Is that so much to ask?" While he talked, he simultaneously climbed the man next to him. He found himself in the wolf's lap, face buried in his neck. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I know. You won't. I can promise you that. If we have to, then we will leave and never come back. Everything is going to be okay. We'll figure it out."

The teen chuckled darkly. "We? Since when?"

"Since I am the only one who can seem to calm you down when you want to kill someone."

"Thanks for reminding me." Stiles muttered sarcastically.

"Stiles. We will figure something out. I promise you that I won't let anything happen to you or to anyone else. Deaton will find something and help us. So just focus on staying calm for now."

The teen hugged him closer. "Why are you being so...nice? I mean I get that I am Pack and all, but seriously, why?"

"Why not?"

"Don't answer a question with a question. That is a dick move." The human looked up at him expectantly, raising his eyebrows simultaneously.

"No reason." He shrugged.

He glared lightly, then turned a smirk on the man. "You can't lie to me anymore." He pointed to his ears. "I have your senses now."

Derek sighed, closing his eyes. "Because you're important to me."

"Why?"

"I don't know Stiles. You just are. Can we be done with 20 Questions now?"

"No." He said simply, huffing out a sigh in a childish manner.

"What do you want from me?" He sighed in annoyance.

"I want the truth." He said indignantly.

"You want the truth?" The man raised his eyebrows comically, a smirk pulling up the right side of his face.

The boy couldn't help but gulp. He managed an answer anyway. "Y-Yes." He cursed himself for his stutter.

Instead of responding, the wolf leaned forward, pressing his lips chastely to the teen's. They were soft and rough and sweet and perfect. The kiss lasted only two seconds, but Stiles was in too much a state of shock to comprehend that. He could barely remember to breath. The kiss was perfect, but he was too dumbstruck to respond, to say anything but a few stumbled words that didn't really make sense. Derek pulled away with a smirk, lighting his eyes with amusement.

"I..." Stiles started.

"There. You got the truth." The wolf cut him off, the smirk forming into a small, fond smile.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! I really loved this chapter. Personally, I think it was one of the best. But that is my biased opinion. I mainly like it because you find out what Stiles is and Derek kisses him. Like how awesome is that?**

**There will be a little more explaining done in the next few chapters, along with more Sterek and more deaths. If you want to find out more, continue on. But beware. There are feels ahead.**

**Good night my Lovelies~**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys~I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has favorited/reviewed/followed my work. It really means a lot to have the support. Thank you.**

**I'm really sorry for how long this update has taken. I've been pretty busy with school and work and stuff.**

**Anyway, lets get on with the story.**

The teen stood frozen, unable to move, barely able to breath. His lips tingled with electricity, a blush coated his cheeks and neck and his eyes were wide. The buzzing energy heated, pouring like lava through his veins, burning him from the inside out. His mind worked on overload, trying to understand and form a response, though it came up blank. His mouth gaped open, surprise still etched into his skin.

"Stiles?"

"What?" The boy responded breathlessly. He didn't know what to think or feel. He didn't know what to do and it was freaking him out. He was always the one with the plan, nothing ever took him by surprise, but this, this is something he never imagined in a million years.

"You're not breathing." Derek pointed out, a slightly concerned smug look on his face.

Stiles took in a deep breath, relieving the ache in his chest he hadn't noticed until it was said. He was just...so confused. So many questions ran through his mind, a hint of curiosity covering his overwhelming embarrassment. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" The wolf responded, tone mocking, face alight with playfulness.

"Asshole." The teen muttered in an undertone, pulling in a deep breath, as if preparing himself. "Why did you kiss me?" The intensity of his flush grew now that the words were said, making him glow softly.

"For someone so smart, you can really be naive sometimes." Again, that teasing tone.

"You're enjoying this. You sick bastard." Stiles scoffed out.

"Maybe just a little." Derek smirked, eyes flashing red. "I love watching my prey squirm."

The teen flushed farther, turning him a dark crimson. He stuttered out a mumble of curses, covering his face with his hands. "Oh my God. Never say that again!" he said in a mortified voice.

"What?" the wolf asked innocently, the smirk falling from his face.

"You sadistic asshole. You are getting way too much pleasure out of doing this." Stiles huffed out in annoyance.

"I don't know what you are talking about." The werewolf mused, running his hand through his hair.

"You know what. I don't care anymore. Now answer my question."

"What question?" A full on smile played at the edges of his mouth.

"I hate you so much right now." The teen muttered out in a jumble of words. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Just answer it."

"Answer what?"

"I swear to God I'm going to-Why did you kiss me dammit?!" He shouted out, the last of his patience diminishing.

All playfulness fell from the man's face, replacing it with caution and seriosity. His jaw set in a hard line, eyebrows scrunching together just a bit, muscles tensing as if second nature. Stiles didn't know if he was ready to bolt and never come back or if he was just preparing himself for an attack he thought was going to happen. Then the realization hit him. Derek was afraid of him. Afraid of his reaction, or better yet, overreaction. Afraid that he was going to be attacked by the thing that had killed his family. Fire.

"Because I wanted to." He said in a monotone voice.

"Why would you _want_ to?" The teen asked, voice incredulous.

"Because it was something I have been wanting to do for a long, _long_ while." His voice portrayed nothing, but his aura was a mixture between concern, curiosity, and nervousness. All of which the teen could now sense. The feelings only confused him further.

"Why?" He furrowed his own brow, taking a cautious step forward.

"Jesus Stiles. How simply do I need to put it?" His voice raised an octave in annoyance.

"Apparently extremely simple because I am incredibly confused."

"God dammit." The wolf muttered under his breath. "I like you Stiles. I have for awhile. And not just as a friend or a Pack member. There is something more there. At least for me there is."

His brows met the top of his hairline, his breath choking off mid gasp. "You're kidding right? You like me? As in, having a crush on me?" His voice steadily rose with impending panic.

"Not exactly a crush, something a little more...intense, but yes."

"But...Why?" His brows scrunched up in confusion.

"You really have no sense of yourself do you?" The wolf asked rhetorically. "Why wouldn't I? You are one of the best people I know, if not THE best. You're loyal and brave and willing to do anything to keep your friends and family safe, even if that means putting yourself in danger. Your quick thinking has saved everyone at least once. I know I wouldn't be talking to you right now if it weren't for your wits. No matter how far I pushed you away, you always came back because you knew, something in you knew that I was fighting everyone and everything because I was afraid, but you made me see that I didn't have to be. You're incredibly smart. You have brought the Pack farther than I could have. They would all be dead without you. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that isn't perfect about you."

Several emotions played across the boy's face; Confusion, understanding, anger, sadness, then nothing. "You're wrong." He said in a dead voice. "There is nothing perfect about me."

The man was already shaking his head. "Everything."

"Derek. I could kill you. I could kill you right here right now."

"No you couldn't." He held a hand up when Stiles tried to interrupt. "I know that you have the power to Stiles. I saw that first hand, but I also know you could never do it. I'm not calling you weak or anything of that sort. It is just a statement of fact. Even if you did kill me, right here right now, I don't think I would care because my last moments would be with you." Derek's hand rose once again, cupping the teen's cheek.

Tears welled in his eyes, though he adamantly pushed them back. He took an unconscious step forward. "You really are gone, aren't you?" A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"After working with you and fighting beside you, after everything that has happened, I found that I had fallen for an annoying, hyperactive teenager who is in way over his head with something that would break most grown men."

Stiles took another step forward. "What if you get hurt?" He leaned into the hand supporting his cheek.

"That is something I am willing to risk." He said in a soft tone, honestly shining in his eyes.

"You shouldn't. You've been through too much pain to willingly sacrifice something like this. I'm not worth it."

The wolf stood in a flash, taking a quick step forward. He brought his other hand to cup the back of the boy's neck, pulling him the last few inches until their lips met for the second time that night. It was short and sweet and completely exhilarating.

"You are worth it to me." He whispered, breath coating Stiles' lips.

Instead of responding, the teen leaned in closer, instigating another brush of lips. Though with such an open invitation, the wolf pushed closer. The simple chaste peck quickly turned into a heated, passion filled make out session. Their teeth clanked together painfully, their lips bruised and swollen, their tongues dancing together in their own private waltz.

The constant buzzing that was almost undetectable before vibrated under Stiles' skin. Small needles of pressure ran through his veins, pricking through the muscle and skin. The teen pushed closer to the source, a wave of power rushing through him as the two were pushed flush together. Another flooded through his system as hands wound around his waist, pulling them closer.

Derek guided his hands under the teen, grabbing at his ass and pulling up. As if on command, Stiles wrapped his legs around the man's waist, pushing their groins together in much needed friction.

Heat coiled in the boy's chest, warping through his organs, burning through tissue and bone and muscle. It grew hotter and brighter with each passing second, running through his veins in a race to control him.

The teen pulled away quickly, eyes wide with fear. He could feel the power seeping through his pores, coming off in waves. He jumped down from his promiscuous position, taking several steps back.

Derek's eyes opened in confusion, his Wolf feelings the distance between them immediately. "What's wrong?" He took a hesitant step forward.

"Stay away!" The teen shouted, taking an unsteady step back. "Stay away from me right now. I...I don't want to hurt you." His knees buckled beneath him, a cry of pain passing his lips. "C-Call Deaton." He said in a breathless voice.

As if acting on impulse, Derek reached a shaking hand forward, instinct shouting at him to go comfort the teen, though his other hand fumbled with his phone. The vet picked up on the second ring.

"Something's wrong."

"_Care to explain." His voice ringing with slight confusion and annoyance._

The wolf's face immediately flushed. "We were….Fuck...We were kissing and then he pulled away and now he is curled up on the floor in excruciating pain." He took a heavy step forward.

"_I was afraid of this." A sigh sounded over the speaker._

"What do you mean?" He took another step.

"_Describe what you see."_

Derek took in a deep breath. "He's shaking slightly, like the pain in getting to him."

"_He's not suffering. There is simply too much energy in his body. What else?"_

"He-He's clutching his head and torso, like he's trying to...I don't know….Hold himself together."

"_What else? What do you hear? Smell?"_

"His heart is hammering, like it's trying to escape. It smells like he's crying." His voice shook slightly as he took another step forward. "He's….I can feel the power. It's almost overpowering."

"_What do you feel?"_

"Jesus. Is this twenty questions?" He huffed in anger. Silence. "Fine. I...It's like I want to submit. My Wolf is practically whining. It feels like I'm a Beta again and I am being forced to submit to my Alpha." He admitted in embarrassment.

"_I knew it would happen eventually. You just seemed to speed up the process with your little show of affection." The vet took a deep breath. "I looked into the bond that I mentioned before. It seems you anchor him just as he anchors you on the full moon. There's something else. Just the sheer power of the bond you two share. I looked into that as well and found something quite...interesting. It seems the connection you two share is more werewolf related than Summoner."_

"Just tell me what's going on."

"_If my intuition is correct and if what the books said is true then Stiles is your mate."_

The wolf's eyes widened comically, his phone slipping from his grip to clank against the floorboards. Derek could still hear the vet speaking through the phone, calling his name, but it sounded so far away. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes instinctively blinking down to the teen. He took several steps forward, reaching a now steady hand out.

"Stiles?" He questioned, voice low but demanding.

The teen was now curled around himself, hugging his knees to his chest. A steady stream of tears glistened trails down his cheeks. His muscles ached with the force needed to keep himself planted and staying as still as possible. His body still shook, small tremors rocking through his bones. He looked up curiously as his name was called, but the motion caused another wave of pain the pull through his body forcing a whimper out instead of a response.

The man quickly grabbed his phone. "We'll talk about the other thing later. How do I fix this?"

"_I'm not sure if there is a way to fix this. You just have to stay with him. You can't let him leave. If he gets out right now he is a danger to himself and everyone else. His power will also draw other things in. You have to stay with him. Understand?"_

"I wasn't planning on leaving anyway." He pulled the phone away from his ear, ending the call in the same second. He took another step forward then another until he stood in front of the crumpled form.

He rested a sure hand on the teen's shoulder though quickly recoiled. A wave of energy shot up his arm, searing through his veins and engraving into his bones. A rush of pain followed the power, forcing a small whimper to pass through his lips.

Ignoring the voice in his head to back away, he reached another hand out, setting it on the boy's shoulder once again. Another bout of power rushed up his arm, followed by pain, but he kept his hand steady. His face scrunched up in pain, eyes quickly bleeding red.

Slowly, Stiles stopped shaking, the pain becoming more bearable. He got some strength back, senses becoming slightly clearer. The electricity running through his veins receded to a barely there vibration. After a few moments, his vision cleared, pushing away the fuzziness. The pain deteriorated quicker now, becoming only a dull ache. The teen shook his head twice to clear the haziness when he felt the sturdy weight on his shoulder blade. He turned a smiling face to the man behind him, though the grin quickly fell.

Derek's face was morphed in agony, his body too weak to keep up his transformation. The edges of his eyes were still tinged red. His muscles were taut, body shaking slightly.

Stiles shook his hand off, jerking away from the wolf. "I told you not to come near me!" He shouted out, a wetness forming in the corners of his eyes.

"I'm fine." His voice was strained, a barely there whisper.

"No you're not dumbass." He laid a tentative hand on his cheek, stroking along the skin. The familiar crassness of the stubble helped relieve some of the teen's impending panic.

"I didn't like seeing you in pain." A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'm glad you're okay."

"You think it's okay for me to see you like this. Because it's not. I hate seeing you in pain. You've been through enough in your lifetime. You don't deserve any unnecessary hurt." He rushed out in a hurried voice. "Please don't ever go that again."

"I can't promise you that. If you are in pain, I will help you, no matter the cost." The wolf's voice grew in determination, adding a bit more volume to his otherwise breathless tone.

"What if you had taken too much of the pain? What if it had killed you? That isn't okay with me. You aren't allowed to die. What am I supposed to do if you die." Blurriness shrouded his vision, cutting off the man in front of him.

"I know when to stop Stiles. Nothing as simple as pain could kill me. And even if I were to go too far, you'd still be alive. You'd live and you'd move on."

Stiles huffed out a shaky, humorless laugh. "You really don't know me at all do you? It runs in my blood. When a Stilinski man falls in love there is no turning back. When they find the one that they are truly meant to be with there is no such thing as moving on. That's why my dad never dates or even shows interest in anyone, because he found his one true love in my mom. No one will ever be able to take his heart ever again. It runs in my blood Derek. You're it for me."

The man was silent for several moments causing Stiles to grow restless. He shifted uncomfortably as the wolf's eyes grew comically wide in realization and fear? Stiles had to avert his eyes with the intensity of the gaze the werewolf turned on him. His fingers fisted into the carpet, digging blunt fingernails into the material. A heavy blush coated his cheeks from the admission he just gave, though he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed of the blatant declaration.

"You know," Derek started. Stiles' eyes snapped to his face, pushing him to continue. "I found something out today. From Deaton specifically."

"Was this when I was otherwise incapacitated?" Curiosity sprang through his mind, showing clearly across his features.

"Yeah." A flash of pain ignited in the wolf's eye. "And he was telling me about the bond that we share. He looked into it and he came back with some pretty interesting news." The man shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Are you going to keep beating around the bush or are you going to spit it out?" The teen growled in annoyance, though his eyes shined with curiosity.

"He was saying how this bond is more connected to my kind than to...yours...He also said that we-.."

A loud crash from outside the door cut the wolf off. Derek was immediately on his feet, staggering slightly from the ache in his muscles. He briefly compared it to when he had been paralyzed in the police station. He quickly shook his mind of such thoughts, moving to stand in front of the teen. A snarl was ripped from his throat as another crash sounded through the hall. The need to protect and attack fighting with each other in his mind. He placed a protective hand on Stiles' chest, ready to push or pull, wherever the attack came from.

The boy's heart pounded in his chest, pulse rising with each passing second. A cold sweat had broken out on his neck and back, making his clothes and hair cling to him uncomfortably. With each crash, he jumped in place. Each time it grew closer, his heart spiked.

A loud bang rang out through the halls, making both men jump, followed by a series of crashes. Then nothing but silence.

The teen took an unsteady step away from the wolf, though immediately stilled as a growl vibrated through the man's chest. Following suit, Derek took a step toward the door.

Not thinking of the possible consequences, Stiles followed behind, keeping a hand tucked in the shirt of the other. He followed closely behind like a frightened child, his face mimicking the comparison.

The silence continued for several moments, only being broken by a loud and rather obnoxious knocking from the window.

On the other side was a….girl. She had a huge smile on her face, spreading across her face, showing all teeth. Dimples dug into her cheeks, accentuating her mouth. Her cheekbones had sharp angles that softened at the end. Her eyes were a light blue color, resembling mist in a way. She was slightly tanned, like she just had gotten home from the beach. Her hair was dark brown with white and gray streaks in it, highlighting the colors in her eyes and cheeks. She was dressed in casual clothing, jeans, long sleeve, sneakers. She even looked about Stiles' age. And she was...waving?

Derek growled low in his throat, snapping around to face the stranger. He once again pushed the teen behind him, though now his hands hung at his sides, claws out and ready.

"I was hoping for a better welcome than this. A little warmer." The girl's voice sounded from behind them, having materialized in the room.

Another growl ripped from the wolf's throat, resonating through the room. His eyes bled red, anger morphing his features.

The teen stood completely still, contemplating. He knew something here. He knew that voice, but he just couldn't place it. It tugged at the back of his mind like a memory trying to resurface. His eyes glassed over, vision seeing nothing.

"Don't make me hurt you again Derek." The girl giggled, voice ringing out like bells.

"How do you know my name?" The man snarled out.

"Well, we have met before. And I have been following around your little boy toy for the past few months." She shrugged it off as if it were no big deal.

The wolf took a hurried step forward, hands shaking at his sides. His bones and muscles shifted in an instant, making his features inhuman. He took another step forward.

Before, their banter fell on deaf ears, but with the sound of the girl's laugh, Stiles was snapped out of his mind and back to the present. It took him only a moment of surveying his surroundings to jump into action. With an act of pure intuition and little to no self-preservation, he bounded in front of the wolf, cutting off his view and path of attack.

"Stiles. Get be-"

He was cut off by the teen. "Are you who I think you are?" His voice was hesitant, but held a tint of curiosity and fear.

Her smile grew wider. "Who do you think I am?" Her own tone mocking and amused.

"You're Ray, aren't you?"

Another giggle passed through her lips. "Right you are little man." She took a step forward, dancing lightly on the tips of her toes before resettling.

Derek growled in warning, taking his own step forward, his claws digging into his palm.

"Keep your little werewolf under control." Ray spoke, voice light and feathery, though there was a distinct level of anger and caution.

"Derek. It's fine." The teen tried to sound reassuring, though his voice shook unsteadily.

Said man took another step forward, face shifting from anger to concern. Another growl built up in his throat though it came out as a whine. Heat flushed through his face, painting his ears and cheeks pink.

"What even was that?" Ray giggled out, body shaking with the force of her laugh.

"Shut up." Both men said at the same time. A small smile tugged at the corners of Stiles' mouth, amusement overriding the fear of the situation for a moment.

"What do you want Ray?" The teen spoke again, voice now steady. His happiness in that moment had faded completely, leaving his tone demanding and serious.

The smile also fell from the girl's face, making her look slightly bitter and all too grumpy. "I am here for you of course."

"What?!" Both men spoke together again.

"Deaton told me that he explained what it means to be a Summoner and the dangers involved in something so powerful. If you ever want to be around your 'Pack' or _him_," She sneered, pointing a painted finger at the wolf, "Then you are going to have to learn how to control these powers. You will only grow stronger and if you don't have even a sliver of control, you'll kill a lot of people."

Another growl resounded through the room, vibrating through the air. Ray arched a manicured eyebrow, eyeing the teen up and down. Derek took another step forward, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"That would make any werewolf proud." He whispered in Stiles' ear, forcing a shiver down the spine of the other.

"I can hear you." Ray spoke up, annoyance bleeding through her voice. "Once you learn to control this power, which I know you know considering it has happened once, though it should have faded by now considering you were just on the floor writhing in pain because your power grew too uncontrollable, you'll have the same senses as your little boyfriend."

A quick blush flooded through his system, turning his neck and face red. "We're not-"

She gave him an unimpressed look, making his will immediately crumble.

Stiles quickly changed the subject. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You aren't taking me from my family."

"You need to learn control and I am the only one who can help you."

"Why you?" Derek spoke, his voice guarded.

"Because I am the most powerful Summoner alive at the moment."

"What?! You're like 17." Stiles huffed out, glaring her down.

"Actually, I think next week marks my thousandth year, maybe thousand and one. I stopped counting after five hundred, I think." She shrugged it off.

Both men gaped at her, faces mirroring each other's, both showing utter confusion and shock.

"That isn't the issue here." She looked like she was trying to hide a smile. "You are coming with me Stiles Stilinski, whether you want to or not."

The teen closed his mouth against the comment that threatened to pass through. His face shifted again, now contemplative. Stiles closed his eyes in an attempt to forget that they were there, though the pressure and heat on his shoulder constantly reminded him. He sifted through thought after thought, idea after idea before he came up with the perfect solution. His eyes snapped open excitedly. He took an exaggerated step forward, coming face to face with the girl, a smile playing on his lips. "Why don't you just stay here? Train me here and when you're done you can leave."

Derek and Ray both looked at him incredulously, faces almost mimicking each other down to the last detail.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I am not staying here." "She is not staying here." They both spoke at the same time, voices overlapping each other.

"Why not? It's perfect. You seem pretty dead set on this training thing and I don't want to kill you," He turned to each, pointing to them as he spoke ",but I also want to stay by your side. So this is the perfect solution." He smiled cheekily.

"I already told you; You're coming with me whether you want to or not." Anger seeped into her tone, masking the melodious sound with bitterness and hatred.

His own face morphed into anger, features morphing in anger. "You take me from my home, I swear to you, that I will refuse to do anything. I won't listen to you, I won't do what you tell me to, I won't let you train me. I will be your own personal deadweight. You have no idea how stubborn I can be. Yes, you have been following me for months, which super creepy by the way, but you haven't seen anything yet, so either you stay here and do what you are supposed to do or you get the hell out of Beacon Hills and my life and fail your mission thing, your choice." The teen crossed his arms over his chest cockily, a self-satisfied smile breaking through his facade.

A bunch of emotions flashed through her eyes; anger, hatred, determination, contemplative, consenting, then anger again. "Fine. You get your way Stilinski. Be ready in the morning. I expect you at the school bright and early."

"The school? Why there?" His face fell at the promise of early morning rising. Again.

"No one is there. No one will be there for a couple months since school is out. For now it will have to work. I hope you learn quickly Stilinski." With that, she dissipated into thin air.

They both stood wide-eyed at the place she had just occupied. "Well that was weird." Stiles spoke first.

"Why did you say she can stay here?" Derek's voice was still guarded, immediately making the teen turn on him, eyes narrowing in concern and confusion.

"Because. It fits her needs and my own. I want to stay here with the Pack. With you. But I know, just as much as you do, that I'm going to need her to help me. Like I said, she isn't going to take me from my family." He shrugged slightly.

"Fine. I don't like this though."

"You don't have to." He took a step towards the wolf. "Now. What's wrong?"

Genuine surprise flitted across his face before being crushed, a stoic look replacing it. "Nothing." He muttered.

"Derek whatever the hell your middle name is Hale. Don't even try to pull that shit with me right now. You're acting weird. You're all closed off and guarded like you were when we first met. Now speak." He put his hands on his hips, resembling that of a scolding mother.

"Stiles. It's nothing. Don't worry about it." He turned his back on the boy.

Stiles' hand darted out, grabbing the man around the wrist. "You are not going to ignore this. Now tell me what the hell is going on. That's how this is supposed to work." When he got nothing but silence, he continued. "I know you. You're thinking self-deprecating things. Just tell me what's going on. I don't like seeing you like this."

The man turned around slightly, eyeing the boy for a few seconds before jerking his hand out of the feeble grip that held it. He couldn't let the teen see the complete and utter fear in his eyes, the confusion and uncertainty.

"Please." Stiles' voice broke. "Please don't shut me out again. This isn't how this is supposed to work."

"What is this, Stiles?" The wolf strained to keep his voice emotionless.

"I...I don't know, but it's something. You can't just make me feel like this and walk away because you get scared!" He yelled out, voice cracking and breaking horribly.

The man stayed silent for several minutes, sifting through decisions, trying to find the best course of action. His Wolf howled at him, clawing inside to get to it's mate, to comfort the boy.

"Just tell me what's going on. I want to help you. I need to be able to help you." He took in a deep breath. "I thought you felt it. The instant heat the blossomed when we kissed. I thought you felt that. I thought you knew just as I do that we are meant to be together. That we need to be together."

"I can't be hurt again Stiles. I can't love you and have you walk away from me." The wolf kept his eyes downcast even though he had his back to the teen.

"Are you kidding me right now?! I already told you that when a Stilinski man finds the one he is destined to be with, there is no going back. You're it for me. The only way you are ever going to get rid of me is if you physically extract me from your life and even then I don't think it will work. Let me rephrase. The only way that you can get me to leave you alone is to kill me."

A mix between a growl and a whimper passed through his lips. He couldn't bring himself to imagine a world without the hyperactive teenager. he couldn't imagine himself or his life without Stiles. He finally turned to look at him, tears dotting the boy's cheeks. Derek took the two steps needed to get close enough to lean down and press his lips to the quivering ones of his mate.

It was short, it was sweet and it left the teen wanting more. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, pulling him closer. The simple kiss quickly turned heated, a clash of teeth and tongues. The boy groaned into the other's mouth, pushing more into the wolf's mouth. The scent of arousal and love permeated through the room, constantly hitting Derek's Wolf like a flash of lightning. It howled and clawed and chewed and whimpered in an attempt to get free. The want and need to mark and claim and _mate_ overriding anything else.

Derek moved away from the kiss, a whimper being pulled out of the other, though quickly resumed contact, nipping and sucking at Stiles' neck. With each press of tongue and teeth a small moan, whimper or gasp would pass through the teen's mouth, egging his Wolf on. He suckled deep, dark marks on the ridge of the boy's throat, nipped playfully at his collarbone and jugular. The teen pulled him closer, rubbing their groins together in a haze of sex and passion.

The two rutted against each other maniacally, moans and groans and growls the only sounds in the room. The teen tipped his head back, giving the wolf more room to map out his skin with his tongue. He traced around each mole, nipping at them seductively. Derek gripped the teen's shirt in clawed hands, ripping small holes in the material.

Their pace sped up, losing all rhythm as they both neared the edge. Heat coiled in the teen's stomach, burning brighter than ever before. Stiles came first with a shout of 'Derek'. The scent of come and arousal and _Stiles_ pulled the wolf closer. He pulled the limp boy closer, rutting against him in a fury of passion, quickly following after, the boy's name whispered out like a prayer and biting into his shoulder with blunt teeth.

They stood simply holding each other, the only sounded being their hurried breaths and their hearts. As each eventually calmed, they pulled away from each other. Stiles had a stupidly goofy grin on his face while Derek just had a look of contentment.

"Was the biting really necessary?" He tried for annoyed, but his voice came out more as a whisper.

"Yes." Was the blunt response.

"So. You know how we were talking before Ray rudely interrupted us?"

"Yeah." The man pulled closer, nuzzling against his neck.

"What were you going to tell me? About our bond?"

"Oh." He pulled away from the inviting throat in order to look the boy in the face. "He told me that you were my mate."

The teen's eyes widened comically, a huge grin breaking out on his face. Stiles jumped up, wrapping his legs around the man's waist, arms around his neck. "That's awesome."

"You do know what that means, right? That there will never be anyone else. That there can never be anyone else for either of us. If you accept this, you have to...You have to want this. Want me."

"I figured that with what we just did that is would prove just how much I want you. And once again, as I told you like three times now, there wasn't ever going to be anyone else for me anyway. You're it, buddy. You're all I want."

A small smile tugged on his lips, his body practically exerting happiness. "Good." He chastely kissed the boy in his arms. "You should get to bed. You have to get up early."

Stiles groaned, his head falling onto the man's shoulder. "Don't remind me." He jerked his head up, eyes glinting in mischief. "Don't think you aren't getting up early too. You are coming with me."

"I planned on it." His smile grew wider as he threw the teen to the bed in a flail of limbs and curses.

"Don't think you're getting away with this." The teen jumped up, tackling the wolf to the ground.

That night, in a tangle of limbs, both lay there, wrapped around each other protectively, like they can both protect the other from the horrors of the outside world.

With his head on Derek's chest and sleep slowly taking over his consciousness, one thought passed through his mind.

_We are all okay Scott. We miss you._

**A/N: Hey guys~ So yeah. Some porn happened. I really wasn't expecting that, but you know, sometimes these things just happen. Anyway, I really hope you like this chapter. I would like to apologize once again for the lack in updates, I will try to get the next one up as soon as I can.**

**Please review/favorite/follow. It really helps knowing people like this story. Also if you have any constructive criticism for me, PM me or post it in the reviews. i will take all ideas and comments seriously and try my best to work on them.**

**Until next time . **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys~ For those who have stuck around for this chapter, I thank you. You have all been a huge inspiration to me and to this story.**

**I just want to clear up the couple situation since I changed some of the pairings. So here's a list. EthanXDanny, AllisonXIsaac, JacksonXLydia, AidenXOC(eventually), CoraXOC(offstage for now), DerekXStiles(work in progress, kinda). There are a few others that will be mentioned, past AllisonXScott and KiraXScott. Kira will make an appearance sometime in the story, I'm just not sure when.**

**Also, some of this chapter is going to be from the main point of view of Derek. It helps with what I'm planning. Mwuahahahaha. *laughs maniacally***

**Just wanted to clear that up and promise more for the future. And maybe warn a little . So lets get on with it, shall we.**

* * *

A blast of energy flooded through the field in a burst of light. Wind pushed and pulled through the branches of the treetops, making them sway precariously. Immense amounts of heat randomly rushed through the clearing, the summer sun being nothing compared to this.

"Come at me again!" Ray shouted from the other side of the field, dancing lightly on the air. After the beginning of practice, she quickly exchanged her jeans and T-shirt for something cooler, shorts and a tank top. Her feet were bare, though she played it off as it just being easier. Drops of sweat pebbled at her brow, her hair sticking to her face uncomfortably.

Stiles rushed forward in a blur, appearing instantaneously in front of the wind mage. His eyes closed on instinct, mind clearing on its own. A wave of power flooded through him and he pushed it outward, feeling the fire tingle it's way up his arms and through his torso. Even so, the moment his eyes opened, a vibrant orange glowing in them, he was pushed back. His back landed painfully on the other side of the field, pulling a whimper from his throat. Derek was at his side in an instant, checking over his body for other injuries. The teen waved him away.

"You need to focus more. If having him here is effecting your focus, then he needs to leave." Ray appeared in front of them in a burst of wind, jerking her head toward the werewolf. "I realize you aren't tapping into your full potential because you are afraid that you are going to hurt him, and while I couldn't care less, I am here to train _you_. I need to see the true power that you possess so I can help you control it. I'm just blindly running drills with you right now. And while it is fun to kick your ass without trying, that isn't what I'm supposed to be doing. Now focus, or he goes." She turned around, disappearing on sight in a gust of wind and reappearing on the other side of the field.

The two stared at each other for what felt like forever, though could have only been a couple seconds. The wolf cupped the teen's face, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. "I can go if you want." A small smile tugged on his lips, though his reluctance was obvious.

"I...I don't know. You keep me, like, in control. I guess the whole point is to lose control, but what if she can't stop me once I do? I don't want to end up going after you or anyone else in the Pack."

"If you only fear for their safety, I can round everyone up and keep them safe. If you want."

Stiles seemed to contemplate this, glancing between the wolf and the wind mage before nodding his head in a small sign of ascension. Another kiss was pressed to his lips, making a surge of want to spike through him. Derek rolled his eyes, helping the teen back on his feet.

"Give her Hell." He whispered in the other's ear, nipping it gently, before relinquishing his hold. "Come by the loft when you're done with practice. Everyone will be waiting for you." With another nod and a worried glance to Ray, the man ran in the opposite direction, throwing a cautious glance at the female.

Once he was sure that neither teens could hear him or even attempt to eavesdrop, he call up Isaac. His phone went straight to voicemail, forcing a muttered curse out of Derek's mouth. Ever since the boy got Allison, he has turned into Scott, ignoring calls and texts, ditching school and pack meetings, turning his phone off at the most inconvenient of times. Though the teen has definitely grown happier the past few weeks, so the Alpha couldn't complain all that much. He was glad that the two had found each other when they did. With their relationship budding, the Pack's bonds have grown increasingly closer.

He could gladly say that this band of misfits and troublemakers has become his new family. They have grown and fought together several times, thrown to work side by side by the worst of circumstances, though it has made them much closer than the wolf would have ever imagined. They were becoming a Pack that he could be proud of and stronger with each passing day. They could and would protect each other if the need ever arose, and for that, he was eternally thankful. And with the new power Stiles will come to master, the group should grow stronger than anything they have encountered thus far. He could feel their bonds growing and pulling tighter, the Alpha and his mate.

He was sure everyone else could feel the ties shifting with the new realization of power and dare he say it, love. He knew they could feel Stiles growing stronger with each passing second. They could feel the budding relationship between them. The effect it has had so far on their bonds has been nothing but positive, pushing them to strengthen and grow more resilient.

He speed dialed Peter next and thankfully, the man wasn't lurking somewhere and picked up on the second ring.

"_Hello my dear nephew. What can I do for you this fine evening?"_

"Call everyone and get them to the loft. When I get there, we will be having a pack meeting. There is something I would like to discuss with them. Also, Isaac has his phone off, so try to find him and Allison and bring them too."

"_Because I'm not doing _anything _right now. I shall just indulge you in anything and everything you ask of me. Now what kind of Uncle would I be if I did that." His laugh carried through the speaker._

_Asshole._ The man growled low in his throat. "It would make you my beta. Now do what is being told of you."

"_And what's the magic word? I know your mother didn't raise you without manners."_

Derek could practically feel the wink in the other man's eyes. He physically face palmed. "Uncle Peter. Would you please gather everyone at the loft?"

"_That's the way Derek. See you when you get here."_

The line went dead. "But you didn't-Wait!" He mumbled a string of curses under his breath, most of which containing words such as _should have stayed dead _and _Gerard_ and _Molotov cocktails_.

The man was just starting his arduous, not really, journey back to his car, when a rush of power hit him, forcing him to stumble back. A wave of heat spread through the trees, making an instant sweat break out across his forehead. He turned his head back towards the school, a proud smile etching it's way across his features. He winked into the trees, muttering small words of praise before running off yet again.

The Pack gathered in their own personal groups around the loft. The twins standing near the couch with Danny. Allison and Lydia talking by the window. Jackson and Cora standing near by, both in an awkward silence. Peter sat at the top of the stairs, leering down at all the teens. Melissa and John were banging around in the kitchen, a mouthwatering smell permeating throughout the entirety of the loft.

The click of the door alerted each member that another person was there. The Alpha barged through the door, the metal crashing against it's hinges. The man's breathing was slightly faster than normal, sweat trickling down his face and soaking into the collar of his shirt. He quickly assessed the situation and the people in the apartment. His nose twitched with the familiar smells of his Pack, of his family, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What are we doing here?" Jackson broke the silence, his annoyed voice shattering the peaceful serenity of the situation.

"There is something that I had to discuss with all of you. It is of great importance so I need you to listen very car-" His voice echoed through the room from the abrupt cut off. Once again, he looked around the room, taking in his surroundings, using his nose and eyes. His eyes closed in concentration, sorting through each scent.

"What are you-" Allison started, though her voice quickly faded as Derek snapped his eyes open, the irises bleeding red.

"Where is Isaac?"

Relief ran through the room at the promise of no danger. "He said that he'd be here in a couple minutes. He had to go check something out. Said that he smelt Stiles in the woods with someone else. He figured he was in danger." Lydia responded, shrugging her shoulders in a show of calm.

"He went looking for Stiles? In the woods?" Panic made his voice slightly higher, reaching a new octave he didn't think possible for his baritone.

"Yeah?" Jackson said, his brows furrowing. Everyone had matching stares of confusion, all looking at him as if he were crazy.

"What's wrong?" Derek's eyes shifted to Peter, who arched a brow quizzically.

"We have to get him out of there. Now. Stiles isn't in danger. _He_ is." The Alpha said, a new sense of urgency entering his tone.

"What's going on? What aren't you telling us?" Allison said in a soft voice, taking a step forward. Though her stance was slightly defensive, as if preparing for a rogue or an attack.

Derek sighed. "Long story short; Stiles is out there. But he is training with Ray. You don't need to know who that is yet. But Stiles isn't stable and he is a danger to everyone near him except for Ray. That is why she is training him. If he goes anywhere near Stiles right now, he is in an immense amount of danger. So, we have to go. Now." He turned his back to the surprised faces of all the teens and the understanding one of his uncle.

"Wait. Where is he training?" Lydia's voice spoke up.

"Why?" The Alpha huffed out, impatience growing. He turned back around, twirling slightly on his heel. Both girls were staring out the window, everyone soon following suit. Confusion took hold of the man's mind, clouding his annoyance and urgency.

"Where. Is. He. Training?" She said again.

"The school. I think on the lacrosse field. Why?" He took his own step forward.

"Because of that." She pointed out the window to somewhere he couldn't see. It seemed she was the only one capable of speaking at the moment, all other's too shocked to forced their vocal chords to work.

He appeared next to her in an instant, eyes growing wide almost comically. If it weren't for the situation, the teens probably would be making fun of him for it. But no one could laugh. Because the area surrounding the school was ablaze, licking up into the sky. Even from behind the window and a few miles away, they could all feel the energy pulsating through the air, setting it alight with electricity. The fire throbbed in the wind, being pushed farther and farther outward. The surrounding trees burned in brilliance. However, the strange thing was there was no smoke. With the amount of fire, the sky should be blackening with billowing smoke, but the sun was clear as day, shining bright on the town.

The clatter of metal against concrete sounded from behind them, all heads snapping toward the noise. Melissa knelt down immediately to clean up the mess while John stood in the doorway eyeing the teen with curiosity and panic. "What's going on?" He asked in something that could be dubbed his 'Sheriff voice'.

"Again. Long story short. Isaac is in trouble and Stiles might hurt him. Can we just all go now?"

No one actually responded to him, all members jumping into action. The wolves were out of the room in an instant, low growls echoing in the hall. The humans followed, each carrying their required weapons. John and Melissa a gun, Allison a crossbow and Lydia and Danny a knife.

They were all stopped outside of the building though, by the low growl and order of the Alpha. "We need to stay together and be extremely cautious. Humans grab a wolf so we can get there faster."

Allison was carried by Aiden, Danny by Ethan, Lydia by Jackson, John by Peter and Melissa by Cora. Each wolf carried their human in their arms, almost protectively.

"I still expect an explanation." John spoke from the right of the group once they started running, staring at the Alpha expectantly.

Derek sighed, huffing all the air out of his lungs before taking in a deep breath. "A few days ago, Stiles and I went to Deaton's because we were...I wouldn't say attacked, but we were talked to by Ray. Well, Stiles talked to her, I was otherwise incapacitated. Anyway, she said some things that he nor I understood, so we confronted Deaton for some information." He took in another deep breath. "It turns out Stiles is this thing called a Summoner. He can control fire. Well, he can't control it, obviously." He motioned to the general direction of the school. "But he has the ability to control it, which means he is dangerous. Deaton told us that being a fire Summoner is very rare and that Stiles will be very dangerous for quite awhile. He would need proper training in order to control his abilities before he would be allowed around the is what Ray is for. She is here to help and guide him, I think. I don't fully trust her, but Stiles seems to and I trust him. She is the same as him, but she controls wind and air and is pretty powerful at that."

"Is that why you have been out of commission for the past couple of days?" Aiden spoke from his left.

"I guess you could say that. Yes."

"Or would it be more with the fact that you and Stiles are-" Ethan was cut off by the Alpha's growl, a small whimper passing through his lips.

"You and Stiles are what?" Cora asked, though her tone held a certain sense of knowing.

"That is not the issue here. We are going out to save Isaac, not ask me a bunch of questions."

"I'd kind of like to hear this actually." John said, a smirk in his voice.

Derek groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fine. We-" His voice was cut off by a loud yelp to their left. He hadn't even realized how far they had gone. The heat was practically smoldering their clothes off, making the fabric stick to sweat slickened bodies. Breaths came out in pants, oxygen muggy with water. Wind blew hot air through the trees, throwing scents off track.

Derek stopped mid-stride, the others quickly following suit as to not run into him or not to get yelled at by their leader. "We have to be careful. I have a feeling Ray is having some trouble controlling Stiles. Or she underestimated him. Stay behind me and don't make a noise." His voice shifted with elongated fangs, forcing a lisp into his words.

The Pack nodded their ascension, staring straight ahead. They moved slower now, though more stealthily. Another whimper rose out from around the trees, causing one to rumble through the Betas. Derek said nothing. He understood the amount of stress that they were all feeling in this situation. They had felt it before with the Nogitsune. The fear of their Pack member, but pure need to help them and protect them from harm. He felt the urge to save Isaac from this situation vibrate in his bones, making his Wolf pace anxiously. But the instinct to be beside his mate and protect him fought against his most primal instincts. He knew his will was diminishing greatly, and soon, too soon, his Wolf would take full form. He would run off and desert his Pack in their own time of need. Somewhere deep inside, Derek knew the Pack wouldn't be able to fend for themselves if Stiles ever lost control. They wouldn't have the will nor capability to protect themselves. He couldn't leave them now, he couldn't leave them ever.

He had vowed to become a better Alpha, for the sake of himself and his Pack. He willed himself to try harder to open up, to speak more, t let his emotions shine through. And even though the progress was miniscule and hard to come by, there was still progress. A good Alpha needs four things; strength, love, courage and loyalty. He would always be loyal to these teens, no matter how far they drove him up a wall. He would use everything in his power to protect and serve his Betas and humans, use every fiber of strength he possesses to keep them alive and fighting, even if it meant risking his own life. He has always loved them, like family, though he never showed that. He needed to be there for them, no matter if it was life threatening or simple teenage drama. He wanted what his mother had with her Pack. The sense of closeness and belonging and family and _Pack_. He craved it, needed it. And he knew, knew it with everything he was, that only he could bring that feeling to this Pack. Only he could help them all belong and truthfully become family. He would become like his mother, no matter how long it took or how hard he would have to try. He would do it.

The heat escalated to nearly painful, forcing the wolves to shift and the humans to use anything in order to protect their skin from blistering. Fire quickly became clear, eating its way up the trunks of the redwoods and oaks and pines, licking at their leaves. Once again, it was evident that the fire did nothing to harm what they touched. Derek wasn't sure if the same could be said about a person and he wasn't willing to risk it. The only sounds evident was the obvious crackling of fire and their soft footsteps. Nothing skittered or scampered away from their group, making the Alpha believe that either the fire had drove them away from their homes or they were all killed due to the extreme heat. He bet on the latter.

"You hear that?" Derek asked the group, a slight hitch in his voice.

"No?" Ethan responded, confused.

"Exactly. Be careful of this fire. We don't know what it did to the animals in this part of the woods and I'm not willing to find out."

Another yelp came from a few feet in front of them, in the center of the oven. Heat waves distorted the trees, making them hazy. The fire bursted with energy, pushing the group back.

"Isaac is right in front of us. Do not, I repeat, do not split up."

The Pack tightened around themselves, keeping eyes open at all angles. The humans stood in the middle, wolves creating a wall of protection. Heat bombarded from all sides, hitting them all like a wave, washing over them. Though they kept moving, walking as one entity.

They all stopped when they reached the school.

Stiles stood in the middle of the field, fire blazing all around him, licking up his arms and legs, burning through his shirt, leaving it charred and hanging in tatters. Wind blew through the fabric, whipping it away from his body, his hair sticking up in random directions. A body lay next to him, the distinct fall of hair proved that it was a female. His eyes were wide open, staring at them with unseeing eyes, irises glowing white, pupils slitted like a cats.

A yelp came from the other side of the clearing. Their attention directed to the sound. Isaac lay in a heap at the fringe of the trees, fire licking up his legs. His pant legs were slowly diminishing, showing off blistered and broken skin, red tainting the pale skin underneath.

"Get Isaac." Derek ordered, eyes glued to the teen in front of him. His wolf howled, making him wince. He had to protect his mate, keep his mate safe. He took a step forward, the heat burning through the soles of his shoes.

"What will you do Derek?" Peter asked, though the smirk on his face told him that the elder already knew.

"I'm going to get Stiles."

"But you-" Cora started.

"Get Isaac!" His eyes bled red, forcing a whimper from the wolves. They nodded their consent, taking the humans with them. They tightened around the gap he had left, closing it seamlessly.

His attention moved to the teen. He took several steps forward, wincing as each step took more from his shoe, blistering the bottoms of his feet. He held up a steady hand, clasping it around the teen's shoulder.

Fire and energy shot up his forearm, one from the inside the other on the outside. A whimper was pulled from his throat as the fire licked it's way up his bicep, charring the edges of his shirt off. Electricity vibrated through his body, setting his nerves on edge. His senses sharpened, mind clearing.

He took another step forward, eyes scrunching up in pain. He put another hand on the teen's shoulder, pulling more fire into his body. His knees shook, threatening to collapse. His hands shook, tempting him to break his hold. He tightened it in response.

One more step forward and he pulled the teen into an embrace. Fire scorched through his shirt, melting the skin of his chest. Pure energy shot forward from the teen into his chest. His heart beat faster, ribs complaining at the extra pressure. He pulled him tighter. After a few moments, he collapsed onto his knees, pulling the boy with him.

"Stiles." His voice morphing with agony. "Stiles. You have to get a handle on this. The Pack is here. You'll hurt them if you continue. You already hurt Isaac. I know that's not what you want."

When he got no response from the teen, he closed his eyes, head falling on Stiles' shoulder. Pain burned through his scalp, fire singing the edges of his hair. "Stiles. Please come back to me. Come back to all of us." He pleaded

The blaze brightened, radiating heat with each pulsation. It throbbed in time with the teen's pulse which jackhammered against his skin. It spread quickly, reaching farther out with each jump in energy. Dry brush caught instantly, along with grass and any shrubbery in the area, though the trees took some coaxing, but all eventually succumbed to the blaze.

Stiles' eyes burned brighter as more energy wracked through him, being pushed out immediately. His pupils dilated against the stark white, before receding back into slits. Fire danced up to his shoulder blades, trying desperately to reach his face. It climbed up him like claws, digging into his skin and pulling up. Blisters coated his neck and chin, some bleeding, some just white against red. His lips moved quickly, chanting, though no sound escaped his lips.

The Alpha leaned closer, almost pressing his face to the teen's lips, though another wave of pain hit him, forcing him back slightly.

"Get them out. Make it stop. Get them out. Make it stop. Get them out. Make it stop." He repeated over and over again, lifting a shaking hand towards the group of teens staring at him wide eyed, fear and concern etched onto their faces.

"Stiles?" Allison took a step forward, a hand resting idly on the arrows strung to her back. The rest of the group seemed to move with her, as if in sync.

"Stay back. He's unpredictable right now." The teen's didn't fall back, though the wolves didn't take another step forward. The humans, with no sense of self-preservation, took several until they were only a few feet from where the couple was crouched.

Melissa and John stood at the back of the group, as if protecting them from the fire attacking the woods tirelessly behind them. Lydia and Danny stood in front of the parents, eyes flitting to the sides every once and awhile, gripping their knives until their knuckles were pale. And Allison brought up the front, kneeling down.

She reached a steady hand forward, gripping Stiles' shoulder. Her grip immediately tightened as pain shot up her arm, fire grazing her skin delicately. The rest of the humans repeated the process, some making sounds of protest and pain and others completely silent, giving Stiles their quiet support. Each said their own words of praise to the teen, muttering in soft voices.

"Someone call Deaton!" Derek shouted to the wolves on the fringe of the treeline.

As if on queue, Peter had his phone pressed to his ear. Derek turned back to the group before him. "You shouldn't be here. You could get hurt."

Lydia scoffed while the others only raised a brow. "Stiles is our friend. And he is John's son. Nothing you say or do will get up to move from this spot." Danny said, voice tinged with pain.

"We have gone through Peter and the kanima, the Alpha Pack, Jennifer, the Nogitsune, Scott. This won't deter us. We will help him." Lydia reiterated. "We have to help him."

The teen twitched in their arms, another burst of energy flooding through the field. Though, the energy kept coming, pouring out of the teen like a wave. The wolves were pushed back several hundred feet, disappearing behind the trees. Several snapping sounds resonated through the clearing, signaling each broken branch that connected with a wolf. The humans were shot from their positions. Allison and Lydia lay in crumpled heaps a few feet away, John and Melissa a couple yards from that. Danny disappeared behind the trees, a thump breaking through the crackling of fire. Derek was forced backwards, landing in a bush at the fringe of trees. Ray's unconscious body was flung to the side, now laying in a limp fetal position.

The wolves not severely injured slowly came from the woods, some still bleeding, others in perfect health. Ethan and Jackson didn't show. The humans were knocked unconscious, though Derek didn't smell any serious injury. He hefted himself up from his position, only to freeze as a heartbreaking howl echoed through the trees, breaking through the fire and dispersing it from the clearing.

The sudden chill made Derek shiver, though the ones following had nothing to do with the cold. The other conscious members of the Pack seemed to have the same reaction.

"Go!" He shouted to the wolves. Almost all of them left. All with looks of concern and horror. Peter stayed.

Derek's attention was quickly grabbed as the teen started convulsing on the ground. He was next to him within the next second, cradling Stiles' head. His skin glowed a soft orange, lighting the clearing like a dull flashlight. His eyes flashing between white and cinnamon as if trying to chose which state it wanted to be in.

More howls broke through the clearing. The only one missing was Jackson's. Peter disappeared, running toward the scene.

The teen stilled in his arms. "I told you to stay away." Came Stiles' raspy voice.

The Alpha's eyes snapped to his face, unbelieving. His skin still held a slight glow, though it stopped illuminating the field. His eyes had morphed, one completely white, the other his warm honey brown. The blisters had disappeared from his skin, leaving unmarked and unmarred.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice broke, his tone pouring relief.

"Yeah Sourwolf. I'm oka-" His voice was cut off by another string of howls and the wolves breaking through the trees.

Isaac and Peter supported an unconscious Jackson who had blood pouring out of a gash on his side. Behind them, Ethan held Danny, crowded by Cora and Aiden, who had a branch impaled through his abdomen.

"Get Danny to the hospital. Now!" Derek roared, eyes bleeding red. The wolves didn't need to be told twice.

"What about Jackson?" Someone said. The Alpha couldn't distinguish voices or noises or actions.

"He'll be fine. His healing is already starting to kick in. Take him to Deaton's just in case. Peter, get everyone else home." He didn't bother waiting for a response before scooping up the teen and running in the same direction of the hospital.

"Where are you taking me?" Stiles asked groggily, eyes drooping.

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

Silence engulfed the run, neither knowing what to say or how to say the things on the tip of their tongues.

"This is my fault." Stiles muttered.

"I knew you were going to do this. That is why we are going to the hospital so you can see that Danny is going to be just fine."

The teen let it drop for now. He fell into an uneasy sleep, body and mind exhausted, against the wolf's shoulder. The steady beating of Derek's heart lulled him farther into dreamland until nothing registered but the light bounce of feet against the ground.

* * *

The teen awoke to bright lights and the smell of bleach. He was confused for no more than a couple seconds before the events from before rushed to him. His eyes snapped open, being met with the other members of the Pack. They all were skittered around the waiting room, some comforting those crying, others completely silent. They all had dark rings under their eyes, proving just how long the teen had been asleep.

The wolves' eyes snapped to his face as they picked up on his faster heartbeat, some glaring with contempt, others gazing softly with small smiles on their faces.

"How long was I out?" He asked no one in particular.

"A couple days." Derek answered.

The Alpha looked worse than any of them. His cheeks were slightly hollowed, eyes tired and dead looking, rings surrounding them. His complexion looked sickly, pale and oily. His hair hung in clumps around his forehead, some sticking, others falling limp.

"How's Danny?"

"He just came out of surgery, but the doctor's still can't say whether or not he will make it. The damage was so extensive that even if he does make it, there will be lasting injury. There will be some things that he will never be able to do."

Immediate tears welled in his eyes, a strangled sob breaking through the other cries. "I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to hurt him. I.."

Derek only held him closer, shushing him and muttering words of love into his ear.

This went on for a days until Danny's condition changed.

* * *

They all sat in the waiting room, looking about ready to pass out. The tears had dried out a couple days ago, now they just stared at the wall blindly. Every once and awhile a cry will pass through one of their lips, but other than that it was silent.

Water and snacks were brought to them courtesy of Melissa and John, the two actually able to function. Sometimes they would force one of them to sleep, but they would only get a couple hours before awakening and staying up for days in a row.

It was around three in the morning when all the wolves shot up from their seats, practically running in the general direction of Danny's room. The humans trailed behind them, some too weak to run.

The closer they got, the more people flew down the corridors. Danny's door was open, people coming in and out in a rush.

The teen's eyes widened as he took in the scene before him.

Danny lay bandaged up on his bed, blood seeping through the gauze. His face looked hollow and sickly, sweat beaded across his forehead and upper lip. His eyes stared ahead, blankly gazing at the ceiling. The light had disappeared from them.

Only two sounds registered among the strung of people. The constant beep of a heart monitor flatlining and the howls of his Pack.

* * *

**A/N: Don't hate me. Don't hate me. Don't hate me. Okay. You can hate me a little bit. I'M SORRY DANNY. Don't come haunt me from the grave please. I am a peaceful person. Sometimes.**

**I am a horrible person. I'm so sorry. Don't kill me. I don't deserve it. I deserve it a little bit. But please don't make it painful. That isn't the way that I want to go. *cries in a corner***

**Once again, I'm sorry for killing off a character. Yes, I am that author. The one that ends up killing everyone. But don't worry. I'm not going to kill everyone.**

**I'm also sorry if the ending seemed kinda rushed. I didn't really know how to do this scene, so yeah.**

**I am completely open to criticism and comments about the story. And in this case, rage. You can rage at me if you'd like to. I'm raging at myself so go ahead.**

**If you liked this story, follow/fav/review. It is greatly appreciated. Hope to see you next time.**

**Goodbye My Lovelies~!**


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